


Perfect Little Freaks: Act 6.2

by AOrange



Series: Perfect Little Freaks [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Comedy, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Other, Pesterlog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrange/pseuds/AOrange
Summary: The more things change, the more they stay the same. Adults say that kind of thing all the time. What happens when you're faced with all new situations and you have no idea how to cope?If you're Dave, you get the hell on with it, man. Shit ain't gonna do itself.





	1. [A6.2A1]: it's like herding cats

**December, 2015**

"John? Come downstairs, please!"

John didn't reply. 

He was standing in his bedroom, trying to remember what he'd even come up to collect. Blankets from the hall closet, he realised eventually. That had been ten minutes ago. 

What had he even been doing for ten minutes? He'd gone to the bathroom, tidied up the stack of loose sheet music on his desk, and even rummaged through his old magic chest for leftover fart bombs. That could have probably taken ten minutes. 

"I'm coming!" John shouted, but not until he was back out in the hallway. "What was I getting again?"

"The sheets for the girls!" 

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled. 

He and his dad had been preparing for days to host Christmas again. Everyone was invited and according to dad, they all needed their own batch of individually iced cookies ready for their arrival. John was pretty sure his lungs were coated in a thick film of confectioner's sugar. 

He grabbed the sheets and tucked them under his arm, then picked up one of the spare, folded comforters before cautiously making his way back downstairs to drop everything off in the study. 

Before John could even stand back up, he was tackled from behind and thrown onto the carpet amongst a mess of blankets, limbs, and hair. 

"Surprise, John!"

"Augh, Jade, your hair's all in my mouth," he said, pulling the long strands free. "Jade!"

"Hi!" Jade exclaimed, squeezing John tightly before she let him go, sitting up on her heels. "Guess what!"

"You're coming to Maple Valley for Christmas?" John asked as he sat up as well. 

"Yup!" Jade beamed. "Guess what else?"

"Uh, Dad knew and I didn't?"

"Duh, what else?"

"I don't know!" John said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"So guess!" 

"Um, you discovered a new kind of frog?" He guessed.

"No, that was last month. You're not trying hard enough, guess again!" Jade exclaimed, clamboring to her feet. "Do you want a hint?"

"Can the hint be you telling me what I'm supposed to guess?" John asked, following suit. 

"Spoilsport. I'm staying for a whole _year_!"

"Really? Dad! Jade's here!" John shouted, as Jade grabbed him and pulled him into another tight hug. This time, he hugged her back, squeezing and swaying her back and forth as she laughed and laughed.

"He knew! Papa knew, Grandpa arranged it all with him. I'm going to college, John!" Jade said loudly. Suddenly, she unwrapped her arms from around him but held onto his shoulders, staring at him from an arm length away.

"No way!"

"Yeah! I mean, I'm still doing my GED online but I'm gonna go to classes at community college for fun! I haven't been to school for ages, I'm so excited!" Jade explained. She hugged John again then took him by the hand, dragging him back out into the living room. "Bec's here too, because of course he is, but he's outside in the yard because we had a long plane trip and I don't think he peed for like ten hours so he's kinda making up for it now."

"Gross," John said, sticking his tongue out for effect. "You're here in time to surprise everyone!"

"I know! They all get here tonight!"

There were two days until Christmas. The Lalondes were flying in just before dinner, accompanied by Kanaya and Karkat which meant that John and his Dad were driving out to the airport separately; there were too many people for one car. 

Even though he'd only seen everyone a few weeks earlier at Dave's dad's wedding, John was looking forward to spending time with his friends again. Having Jade home for the first time since they were in elementary school made things even better. 

She beamed at him and laughed when his dad sent her upstairs to shower, along with a reminder to wash her hair with shampoo, not the bar soap. John, on the other hand, found himself once again roped into icing cookies; when Dad wasn't looking, he drew dicks on Dave's batch and shoved them into the box. 

The afternoon dragged on and more than once John almost accidentally sent Dave a snapchat with Jade in the background. As soon as it ticked over to four o'clock he started getting antsy - the plane was landing at five. He snatched up his keys and herded both Jade and Bec into his 2009 Honda Civic - chosen by his dad for the safety rating - and pulled out of the driveway.

It was Bec's sharp, sudden bark that first let John know something was wrong. He'd been scanning the crowd as everyone piled out of security and into the terminal, trying to find the familiar faces - he knew they were on their way out because Dave had sent him a series of Snapchats a few minutes earlier. By the time he turned around, Jade was lying on the floor with Bec sitting up beside her, his ears pointed forward as he kept a close eye on the people around them.

"Jade!" 

When John dropped to his knees, Bec lifted one paw from the floor in case he needed to intervene. He helped Jade to sit up and lean back against him as she rubbed at a spot on her head, frowning. 

"I think I got too excited," she said, kissing Bec's nose as he sniffed her all over. "I'm okay though. You are a good boy, aren't you? You knew that was coming before I did!" Jade said, leaning forward to press her forehead against Bec's to kiss the top of his nose again. "Good dog, Bec!"

"Are you sure you're okay?" John asked. 

"Yeah, but I might sit here for a little while just in case," she said. 

"Okay," he said. He pushed her forward a little, just so he could stand back up, then let her lean back against his legs. 

Bec lay down then, at Jade's feet, with his head resting on her toes. 

"They're here!" John exclaimed a few minutes later, reaching down to help Jade back to her feet. "There, see?"

"Karkat! Kanaya! Rose! Hi!" Jade exclaimed, jumping up to wave in the direction John was pointing. "Dave! Over here!" 

John laughed when he was the reaction on his friends' faces. Just like he'd been surprised in his own house earlier that day, his friends were in shock to see Jade waiting there with him. 

"Hi!" 

John laughed even harder when Karkat tried to resist her hugs, but smiled when she let go. Jade laughed and hugged Rose, and Kanaya, and finally Dave, who hugged her back so tightly that he lifted her off the floor. 

"Surprise!" John exclaimed. "It's Jade!"

"Merry fucking Christmas to us," Dave said as he let her go. "Egbert."

"No, Dave."

"John."

"Dave!"

"John, you know how this goes," Dave said, holding his arms open expectantly. "Either get over here voluntarily or Mom'll make you."

"You suck," John said. He rolled his eyes but stepped forward anyway, letting Dave hug him for way longer than was probably necessary. "Hey, quit it! Rose, help!" 

He called for help when Dave started to squeeze. 

"Are you two quite alright there?"

"Roxy!" John exclaimed, shoving Dave aside. "Wait, where's Dad?"

"Waiting back past baggage claim," Roxy said. "Oh my _god_ , Jade, sweetie, how are you?"

"Roxy! I'm great!" Jade exclaimed. This time, John realised what was happening and grabbed her just as her left knee buckled again, managing to keep her upright. "I'm just so excited to be home!" 

"You should probably sit down," he said, concerned. 

"I'll sit down in the car," she said, working to pry John's fingers off her arm; she scowled when he didn't want to let go. "Okay," she huffed. "To the John-mobile!"

+++

"Bec, stay! Good boy, good stay, Bec!" Jade said, taking a few steps back from her dog. He'd been following right on her heels since they'd landed in Seattle; he'd never met any of the people in her family before and was still wary of them. When she'd collapsed at the airport, he'd taken to keeping even closer to her, just to watch over things.

He was such a good dog. 

"Bec," Jade said, leaning over to look Bec in the eyes. "These are my friends and my family and they are allowed to be here, so don't you go waking me up because they're here! John is like my brother and I love him like I love you and he's a good person. Karkat smells and is a huge dork so when he yells at you he doesn't mean it. And Dave is a big nerd and he's not cool at all but is actually a huge dork too. Okay?"

Bec barked once in response. 

"That's exactly what I thought! I'm only going to the bathroom, I'll be fine!"

"But Jade," John interrupted from up on his bed. 

"John!" Jade admonished. "I'm fine!" 

Before John could say anything else, she turned and ran out of his bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. She was tired, and even though it was late and she'd had a nap when they got in from picking up the others at the airport, she thought she might be tired enough to get a few straight hours of sleep for the first time since she'd left Grandpa behind in Kinshasa. 

When she pushed the door to the bathroom open, she was greeted with a yelp. 

"What the fuck, get out!" 

"Huh? Why? I need to pee!" 

"Harley, I'm in the shower!" Dave exclaimed; she laughed when he reached for the shower curtain and tried to wrap it around himself. "Why are you still in here?!"

"Because I need to pee, I said that!" Jade exclaimed, ignoring Dave's protests as she hurried across the room. 

"Hey, stop right there, dammit Jade! If my dick is out, so is everyone else!"

"Technically you're wearing a shower curtain," she shrugged, sitting down on the toilet. 

"Are you done yet?" Dave asked, looking up at the ceiling over the tub. 

"Almost." 

"Could you maybe hurry it up a little?"

"Stop whining! I needed to pee, Dave, was I supposed to wait?"

"That's exactly what you were supposed to do!"

"Why?"

"Because my dick is out!"

"I'm not looking!"

"Harley, oh my god, what about now?" 

"Jeez, I'm finished," she said, standing up and adjusting her shorts before she turned around to flush the toilet. "Why are you still so weird about stuff?" Jade asked. 

When she reached over the edge of the tub and collected a handful of water from the running shower to wash her hands, Dave took another step back, dragging the curtain with him. 

"Now you're just fucking with me, Harley." 

"I'm washing my hands, idiot," she said, shaking the excess water off. " _Now_ I'm done, are you happy?"

"You're still here, so no."

"Wow, your eyes really are fucked up, huh?"

"Jade, I mean this in the nicest way possible but get the fuck out and let me wash my junk in peace," Dave said, still scowling. 

"I'm going, geez," she said, frowning in return. "I just needed to pee."

When Dave lifted a hand to flip her off, he immediately panicked as the shower curtain started to slip away. Jade laughed, her back already turned as he swore at her once more, then closed the bathroom door as she left. 

Back in John's bedroom, Bec was still sitting exactly where she'd told him to stay. 

"Good boy, Bec! Okay, you can relax now," she said, patting his head as she ran past him to sit up next to John on his bed. "Oh, Dave's in the shower," she added nonchalantly. 

"That's what I was trying to tell you!" John exclaimed. "Did he scream?"

"Only a little bit. Do you think Rose and Kanaya are asleep yet?"

"I'm not going to risk finding out," Karkat said, turning around in John's desk chair. "Did you say Dave screamed like a little bitch when you walked in on him in the shower?"

"Yeah, it was funny," Jade said. "Why?"

"Because he walks in on me all the fucking time, the douche."

"He is so _weird_ ," John said. "Oh my god, Jade, let's faceswap!"

John was the first to fall asleep. He'd tried to deny his weariness for as long as possible, but when he'd kicked Jade off his bed and back onto the inflatable mattress she knew he was done. She made a big show of being annoyed, but started laughing halfway through the accusation and just kissed his cheek instead. Karkat was next, despite lying on a pile of blankets and pillows and using the edge of the blow up mattress for his head; apparently, the most uncomfortable thing about it was how quiet Maple Valley was compared to New York. 

"Dave?" Jade whispered. "Are you awake?" 

"Nope. So asleep, Harley, you have no idea."

"You know you're not as funny as you think you are, right?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Sorry for before, I think. I mean, you were totally weird about it but John says I should have knocked first or something," she said, her voice still low. 

"You think? It's cool, just give a guy some warning next time," Dave said. 

His phone lit up suddenly, but only just; she remembered him having problems with screens, but she didn't know how bad things actually were at night when there was no other source of ambient light. 

"What time is it?"

"Almost two."

"Tomorrow's gonna suck," she said. Bec, sensing her disappointment, climbed over her legs and lay down in the space between her and Dave, his head resting in the crook of her arm. "Good boy, Bec, good boy," she said, nuzzling her face into his fur. 

"See you in the morning, Harley," Dave said. 

She felt the mattress shift as he turned over, his back towards Bec. In the dull light that managed to break through John's curtains, she could see Dave move again to rest his forehead against Karkat's crown. 

Jade smiled to herself and closed her eyes, trying her best to relax despite knowing that she was in for an inevitable night of tossing and turning. With her regular schedule thrown completely out by the shift in time zone changes, it was going to take her almost a week to adjust. 

When Bec yawned, she did too.

+++

He wasn't even working anymore.

When he'd first heard the sounds of Jake climbing up to the attic, Dirk had been in the middle of editing a remix he'd been trying to finish for days. He'd lifted one side of his headphones up and moved it to rest behind his right ear, expecting a conversation. 

What he got instead was Jake leaning over the back of his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and countless kisses littered slowly across his shoulders. 

Dirk kept working; the kisses never stopped. 

Wordlessly, Jake had continued, working his way from shoulder to neck, then around as close to throat as he could get without changing position. His hands moved, his left finding its way up into Dirk's hair as the right did its best to be a distraction. 

Dirk refused to take his eyes off the screen. 

However, if Jake had looked up for so much as a few seconds, he would have realised that Pro Tools wasn't even running anymore. 

Eventually, he felt Jake move, only slightly, to the left side of Dirk's neck with his right hand on the other. That he could live with. He let his head fall to the right, and heard Jake give a quiet snort of laughter before continuing. 

"Jake."

"Mmm?"

"Don't even think about it," Dirk said. 

He'd pulled the pin on whatever the plan was right before Jake could unbutton his jeans. 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Dirk said. As he lifted his headphones up and off both ears, Jake's hand withdrew from his waistband and joined the right in hanging loosely over his chest once more. "So what was that all about?" 

"Did you know that if we just refuse to catch our flight tonight, this could very well be the first Christmas we spend just the pair of us?" Jake said. 

"Did _you_ know that I told everyone we're not getting in until Christmas Eve and that for the next two nights, we're staying in downtown Seattle?"

"You're joking. Why would you do that?"

"Because you're really into _Sleepless in Seattle_."

"That film ends in New York."

"What? _Fuck_ ," Dirk swore. "Why's it called _Sleepless in Seattle_ then?"

"Because that's the name they use on the radio program," Jake explained. "You've seen it at least three times," he added, leaning in again to go back to kissing Dirk's neck. 

"Doesn't he move to Seattle?"

"Mmhmm," Jake murmured. "But she's from Baltimore." 

"So why the fuck do they go to New York?"

"Google it."

Dirk let Jake continue for another few minutes, taking the time to wind down from working all day; he'd only left his computer twice, and both times had been to use the bathroom. Eventually, the rational part of his brain kicked in and he sighed, hit shut down, and pulled away from Jake long enough to swivel his chair around and stand up. 

"You had a shower," he said, surprised as he reached out to run his fingers through Jake's still damp hair. 

"I had time."

"Something disgusting happened at work, didn't it?"

"I didn't want to bring the mood down," Jake said, leaning in again now that Dirk was standing in front of him; this time, he went for the throat. 

"Hold that thought," Dirk said. "That exact thought."

"Until when?"

It was more challenging than he thought to do the math with Jake's hand trying to work its way into the back of his jeans. 

"Eleven."

"That's five hours away."

"Three hour flight leaving at seven, plus an hour to get to the hotel," Dirk explained.

"Five hours, Dirk," Jake said, following Dirk's lead across the room but backwards, still holding on. 

"If the math doesn't hold up, you can debauch me all you want in the Uber." 

Luckily for Dirk, he couldn't remember a time when his math had been wrong. They'd made it to the hotel by ten fifty-one and were upstairs five minutes later. 

He'd splashed out for a hotel, of course he had. They'd hosted an entire wedding for less than five hundred bucks, discounting the kids' flights. He wasn't about to let things slide completely just because they'd already been together for ten years. 

The morning after the party, he'd woken up alone on the living room floor. Jake had made it to bed, but only just, and had slept across the mattress with his head and feet hanging over the sides; Dirk thought he'd ended up better off on the floor. The day after that Jake had gone back to work and they'd carried on as if nothing had changed. They didn't need anything bigger than that. But being invited to Seattle for Christmas, Dirk couldn't pass up the opportunity to do at least something to celebrate the holidays, a ten-year anniversary, and a marriage. 

"You never answered me earlier, you know, about the cost of this place," Jake said tiredly from his place in the crook of Dirk's arm. "Was that deliberate?"

"Yeah," Dirk replied, turning his head to kiss Jake behind the ear. "But the way I see it, what does it matter if I can afford it?"

"Not forever."

"Close enough to. You're telling me this isn't worth it?"

"I can't help but wonder if those poor people across the bay were just subjected to somewhat of a filthy view," Jake asked. 

"If they can see that far, they earned the show."

"Just imagine the hullabaloo if you were still famous," Jake laughed. 

"Lucky for you I'm a washed-up has-been," Dirk said, stifling a yawn. He turned onto his side and slid his left arm across Jake's stomach, settling in to let himself start dozing. 

He was almost asleep when he felt Jake's fingers entwine with his, and start slowly spinning the steel ring he found there. 

"I do love you quite a bit, you know," Jake said quietly. "Even though I'm still a bit rubbish at all of this romantic stuff."

"Hey, don't knock it. The reason we work is because we're both shit at this," Dirk replied, just as quietly. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to Jake's collarbone and then shifted again, so close to sleep.

"Good night, Strider." 

"G'night, English."

+++

It was like herding cats.

Roxy had always loved her children. She loved everything about them, from Rose's long-standing love for other realms but utter contempt for Harry Potter, to Dave's collection of dead things. She knew their habits and hobbies weren't exactly standard, and she knew she'd raised them in an entirely unconventional way, but she loved them and had always made sure they knew that. 

Sometimes, it felt like they were out to get her.

Rose was still asleep at two o'clock in the afternoon. Dave had spent the morning pretending to throw things around the house and yard to trick the dog into running after nothing. John was complaining about everything. Kanaya kept alternating between the living room and the study. Jade was in and out of the house more than Bec.

It was hard to remember they were as old as they were. 

"Okay, okay, enough is enough!" Roxy shouted. "I want everyone in the living room in thirty seconds!"

"But -"

"No buts, Johnny, unless it's your butt on the couch. Scoot!"

Roxy stood in front of the fireplace, arms folded across her chest as she waited for the kids to all pile on and around the couch. Rose was the last to arrive, sinking down onto the floor with a comforter still wrapped around her shoulders. 

"So because you're all starting to drive us nuts, here's what's gonna happen. Jade, honey, the backyard isn't big enough for a dog like Bec to get in enough exercise. You and Johnny are going to the lake so he can run around there for a while. You need to wear rain boots, so you can borrow mine. They're in the upstairs closet."

Jade nodded, and so did John. 

Two down, four to go. 

"Girls, you're going to Walmart. We need a whole bunch of crap, I'll write it down."

Roxy rolled her eyes when Rose groaned audibly. 

"Boys, you're going to Safeway. Same shit, different shopping list. John, Davey needs your keys, and Davey, I'll text you." 

"So basically, it's Christmas and you want to get rid of us, right?" Dave asked, looking at her over the top of his glasses. 

"Of course not, baby," she replied sympathetically. "But realistically, it's Christmas Eve and you kids are old enough to run a couple of errands. Car leaves in five, Dave, whether Rose is dressed or not." 

"Leggings are most definitely pants," Rose said defiantly from inside her comforter cocoon. 

"Hun, I lived through leggings the first time and while my ass looked great in them, my ass only looked great in them in my aerobics class," Roxy said. "Four minutes."

It took the kids a lot longer than four minutes to get out of the house. Roxy stood patiently by the front door, waiting as one by one the kids filed out the door. Dave was first, John's keys clutched in one hand and his phone in the other; she kissed his cheek and shooed him out before he could change his mind about anything. Karkat followed close behind, reading a text as he walked out the front door with a brief wave. John, Jade, and Bec were next, the two kids dressed in rain boots and matching scarves that John had no doubt found in the back of his closet. Roxy kissed each of them as they paused, however briefly, in the doorway. Kanaya was next, with Rose scowling from behind her; Roxy just smiled and waved at the girls as they climbed into the back seat of the car. 

When the sedan disappeared around the corner, Roxy sighed and closed the front door. 

The house was quiet. 

"That," she said, dragging out one of the chairs from the kitchen table. "That is the reason we never did this when they were younger, right?" 

"One of the many." 

"I mean we would have only had the four of them, but yeesh," she said, getting up again to pour herself a fresh coffee from the pot. "I love them, I do, but six kids is insanity." 

In her mind, sending the kids out of the house was an assured hour of peace and quiet - maybe even two if she was lucky. When the doorbell rang, she went straight from relaxed back into mom-mode, however reluctantly. 

She swung the door back open.

"So did we just see Dave driving down the main road or am I finally losing it?"

It wasn't any of the kids; it was Dirk. 

"You did," Roxy sighed. "I just got them all out of the house, you asshole. I tried to call you yesterday to find out when your flight got in, why didn't you call me back?"

"Busy, I guess," Dirk shrugged as he kicked off his shoes just inside the door. "I didn't see the alert until it was too late." 

"What about this morning?" 

"Slipped my mind."

"Are you lying to me?"

"We were busy, Rox. That's it. No lie, just bad time management," Dirk said. 

"You? Since when?"

"What's with the Spanish Inquisition?"

"When you were nine you made a schedule for your chores," Roxy said, kissing Dirk and Jake on the cheek before she closed the door once again. "And you allocated yourself the chores. Jake?"

"We've been in a suite at the Four Seasons for days. You should jolly well be able to fill in the rest for yourself," Jake said, chuckling as he crouched down to unlace his own shoes. "Although I could go into specifics if you like, such as how during the second round yesterday, he managed to get his co -"

"For the love of God, stop with all the blatant bullshit while you're ahead," Roxy said. "I'll believe you next time." 

"Good. Merry Christmas, Rox," Dirk said. "You want us to just sit quietly so you can get your mom-time in?"

"Oh please," Roxy said, walking back through to the kitchen. "You think they'll all survive an hour without calling me for something?"

+++

"Nah, I'm out," Dave said, standing up from the couch. "Better get some shut eye in or Santa won't deliver the goods and all that shit."

He knew it was only just after nine o'clock, but he couldn't think of a better excuse to leave. He'd been trying to stay up and he definitely wanted to kick John's ass at Mario Party, but he'd been fighting off a migraine since his mom had sent him out for groceries. 

"Lame," John said. "You just don't want to play because Kanaya dibbsed Princess Peach before you." 

"That's exactly why I don't want to play, Johnny boy. See you all tomorrow," he said, making a poor effort to wave as he turned to head up the stairs. 

As soon as he was sure the door to John's bedroom was closed, he let out the pained groan he'd been suppressing for hours. He switched off the ceiling light, used his phone as a torch to find his backpack and medication, and left his glasses folded up on the edge of John's desk. He sent Karkat a message - _dude for the record two t3s at 9:13_ \- then loaded up a podcast to help kill the time. 

It was about half an hour later when he heard muffled footsteps outside the door; it wasn't the clock that told him, it was the fact that when he moved his arm to check the time, the limb felt weightless; his medication had kicked in. 

But even that didn't stop the light from the hallway sending a sharp stab of pain to the fronts of his eyes when the door opened. 

Dave felt everything move as someone flopped down on John's bed beside him. Just when he thought it was over, the movement started again and he felt the weight of a dog almost as big as he was burrow in between the two bodies. 

"Harley, why?"

"Because John's yelling at Karkat because he thinks he cheated, even though you can't cheat at Mario Party."

"Mario Party destroys more families than Monopoly," he muttered. "So why are you and the hellbeast here?"

"Because I only took two naps today and Bec thinks I'm gonna collapse soon so if I'm lying down it doesn't matter," Jade explained. 

"Cool."

"What about you?"

"Killer headache," he said. "Right here."

When Dave reached up, it took him a minute to find the right place to point; it was hard to accurately indicate a space no one could see from outside his head. It had been a long day. After almost two hours at the grocery store, fighting with Karkat over which brand was a better deal on almost everything from Roxy's list, they'd made it back to the Egberts house to find that his other parents had arrived. 

Dirk and Jake had spent the afternoon and early evening at the house, but had cleared out just before game time started. Dave knew he should have made more of an effort to hang out with them, but his eyes had been throbbing by then anyway. He'd only seen them a few weeks earlier, but had had finals since then and knew it would be a while until his next trip across the country. 

There was always tomorrow. 

"You wanna hear something super weird?" Jade asked, dragging one of John's pillows down so she could lie more comfortably on her side. 

"Try me."

"Bec really liked your stepdad! You saw him yesterday when he didn't know any of you, he was super cautious and now he's still only pretending to be super relaxed around everyone," she said. "He's okay with you now because I'm okay. But he really liked Jake!"

"Everyone likes Jake, he's a goof," Dave said.

"When you first met him you sent everyone caps lock messages about him being a raving lunatic," she pointed out.

"Yeah, same difference. I've been pretty lucky in the stepdad department."

"Do you want to know something silly?"

"You've already hit me with super weird, so shoot with silly."

"I used to write letters to him!"

"Wait, you did what?" Dave asked. It was hard to concentrate with a double dose of medication in his system, but he was determined to stay awake long enough to hear the end of Jade's story. 

"Yeah! When I was thirteen I read one of his articles in a journal that Grandpa bought for me. I think it was about the research he'd been doing into orang utans and we were living in Borneo at the time. So I wrote him a letter, and then because we didn't have a real address, he sent me a letter back to Grandpa's email. So every time I read one of his articles and me and Grandpa were doing something that matched up with what was in the article, I sent him a letter."

"That's super fucked up," Dave muttered. "Like, I mean but so am I. Not gonna be awake much longer, Harley."

"But I think that's why Bec likes him! We were pen pals!"

"I don't even know what my life is anymore."

"Do you want me to go?"

"You can stay," Dave said, reaching above his head to stop the podcast from playing any further into the episode without him listening. "It'll freak the fuck out of John."

"And make Karkat jealous," she giggled.

"Super funny, Jade, never heard that one before."

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh," Jade said. 

"Did you know," Dave mumbled a few minutes later. "I don't think I've ever been this close to a fucking hellbeast this big before?"

"He only weighs a hundred and forty pounds, Dave."

"I'm one forty three."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"I'm pretty sure that's less than me, but I haven't been to a western doctor since Grandpa had his heart checked in Australia," Jade said. "And that was a long time ago."

"Man, I am way too in love with the city to ever go back to fuck-backwards nowheresville," Dave said. He grimaced in pain as he turned over, but when Bec started sniffing his forehead, he was too tired to move. "Your barkbeast is licking my head," he mumbled.

"He thinks he's helping, don't you, Bec? Good helping!" Jade said happily. 

"Stop," Dave said slowly, dragging out his vowels. He reached up to try and stop Bec from licking at him, then slid down the bed just far enough to hide his face in the long white fur of the dog's chest. Bec whined quietly and turned to keep licking at Dave, so Jade put her hand out and covered his mouth.

"No, Bec. You helped enough! He's trying to sleep now, see? It's almost Christmas and we're not gonna miss this one, Bec! We need to sleep though. Are you gonna stay up like a good boy?" Jade asked, taking the Bec's sneeze as a yes. "Who's excited for Christmas?"

"Shit, let's be Santa," Dave mumbled, turning further over and burying his fingers in Bec's fur. 

It was a stupid thing to say, the rational part of his brain thought. But the rest of him, the part of his brain rendered useless by a high dose of codeine, only cared that Bec was soft, and warm, and that it was so close to Christmas.

+++

For weeks, Rose had been waking up with a sick feeling twisting through her stomach. She had gone on with what needed to be done, planning and organising everything down to the smallest details. Ultimately, she knew she was doing both what she wanted and needed to do.

All through her teenage years, she had been convinced that she knew what to do. She was going to go to college, get straight A's, then follow in the footsteps of her mother and do something groundbreaking, even if that meant she had to write epic tomes no one but the most dedicated would ever finish reading. She knew it. She was going to live, so in love, in a small apartment with an even smaller balcony where she could sit on summer afternoons and read. It was simple, but so very her. 

But sometimes, just sometimes, life threw people unavoidable curveballs. Hers came in the form of a small error in her genetic code, a single strand of her entire being. It ran through her veins and her mother's; her uncle and brother had their own addictive vices, but the genetics seemed to run stronger in the family females. If they knew, if her mother and uncle knew just how far out of control she was, they wouldn't ever think twice again about Dave's slightly higher than recommended prescription drug intake. 

She lived in a small apartment, so very in love, but incapable of entirely appreciating what she had. Her grades had fallen so far that she couldn't earn a C even if she nailed her final exam. Her writing had been untouched for months. Kanaya was trying to understand, to help, but love could only stretch so thin when there was minimal reciprocation when it mattered. 

Her decision had been based on what was best for the both of them and their relationship. It had taken her months to bring up the possibility, to float the idea that they could just break away from what they were doing as if it didn't matter; really, it didn't matter at all. The only one forcing her to achieve all of those things was herself. 

Kanaya had worried that there would be consequences; Rose assured her they would be worse should nothing ever change. 

She was about to change everything. 

Between bites of turkey and mashed potatoes, Rose watched everyone around her to help her choose the right moment. Her mother and stepfather-to-be were deep in conversation, their chairs pushed closely together as they stole bites of food from each others' plates. Beside her, Kanaya was discussing the vampire fiction fad with Karkat; they each had their own strong but varied opinions on the subject and would go on for hours if they were able. John was explaining his latest composition with Dirk. Apparently, he'd started writing funny songs in his spare time and according to her brother, they weren't half bad - not that Dave would ever admit to that, as his repeated sniggers seemed to indicate. At the far end of the table, Jake was kneeling on the floor beside Jade's chair and together they were trying to teach Bec to balance a piece of turkey on his nose without immediately trying to eat it. 

"Excuse me," Rose said. She noticed her voice wavering and was thankful there were so many people sitting around the table. "I'd just like a moment of your time," she added. 

One by one, her family fell silent. Part of her had been hoping that no one was listening, but instead they were all turning her way, putting their conversations on hold just to hear what she had to say. 

"What's up, hun?" Roxy asked. 

"I've made rather a large decision recently," Rose started, her right hand twisting at the fabric of her skirt. "One that I feel I should share with you all sooner rather than later." 

"Well shoot," Dirk said. 

"I've decided to put my education on hold in order to move to London with Kanaya. Our flight leaves Monday," she said. "This Monday," she added, a little quieter. "I haven't purchased a return flight and have no intention of doing so in future."

It was hard to judge the reaction from around the table when she was staring down at her plate. It hadn't been an easy call to make, but Rose knew that leaving everything behind to start over was the right decision for her. 

Despite that, it was probably the most difficult decision she'd ever made. 

She didn't know how long had passed since she finished speaking and she wasn't going to know what the general reaction was until she forced herself to look up. 

It was a lot of information to process. She'd had the time to prepare for this to be the last opportunity to see her entire family together; they were just learning of the fact. It could be years before she saw them in person again, longer until that was for more than a brief visit. She had a work visa organised; in time, she knew she could apply to remain in the country based on the status of her relationship. Kanaya's mother had been willing to take them both on until they could get a place of their own. 

Rose had high hopes it wouldn't take too long to find a small apartment with a balcony.

Before she could gather the courage to risk making eye contact, her attention was drawn by the sounds of a chair scraping along tile as it was pushed out from the table with far too much force. 

Rose could only watch as Dave walked across the room, threw open the door to the utility room and disappeared. 

He slammed the back door as he left. 

She didn't have to answer to anyone. She'd made the right decision. Kanaya would be with her, always by her side, to support even her most rash decisions. This was calculated, carefully planned. 

None of that mattered. 

Her brother, her best friend and her lifelong rock, had wordlessly made her feel as if her entire gut had imploded. 

It was the right thing to do, she had to remind herself. She had to take back control by any means necessary, even if that meant starting by wiping away her tears so she could finish her explanation.

+++

He was simultaneously too hot and too cold. It was barely above freezing out and he'd just spent half an hour walking two miles down the main road. His shoes were soaked through, he couldn't feel his fingers or his toes, but his chest was burning underneath his sweater.

Two fucking miles. 

At least he was in the right place. 

Across the store, Dave was sitting at a corner table with his arms folded across his chest as he stared out into the parking lot. 

Karkat took off his hat and scarf and sat down in one of the empty chairs. He wasn't about to be the one who broke the silence, but as time ticked by, he went from mildly concerned to worried. He waited five minutes, then twenty, and eventually went up to the counter and ordered two caramel macchiatos.

When Dave reached out and took the coffee, it was the first time he'd moved in over forty minutes. 

"When I found out about the whole, y'know, your uncle is really your dad thing, I went through this weird stage where I just questioned everything. Like, I always thought that I'd been born in New York and that time Jaspers scratched up my arm was the oldest shit I could remember. And I thought about it over and over and I tried to remember anything about Texas but I couldn't, like, nothing before the Jaspers Incident stuck. Maybe, when I tried real hard, I could remember some kind of bright light in the sky, but I don't know when that happened. It could have been anywhere," Dave said. 

He wasn't drinking the coffee, but he was talking and that was something. 

"I told Rose and she said she couldn't remember a time without me around, so there's no way I should expect to remember anything from back then. I told her I remembered her telling me she wanted to marry that chick from _Spy Kids_ and she just laughed. We were like six and seven at the time, so we think she was serious about it and we agreed that her declaration back then was her first official coming out. It wasn't weird or anything, Bro was always explaining that kind of shit to us. It still felt like a secret though, you know? I didn't tell anyone because it was cool to know something that big about her."

Karkat nodded. He'd tried drinking his coffee in the most obvious ways, by Dave wasn't taking the bait. The other cup remained on the table, spinning slowly whenever Dave felt the overwhelming urge to fidget with something.

"I think that's what started it, you know? We both got really big into keeping secrets after that, because Mom and Bro were always so good at figuring out when we were lying it made us get better at it. Like, small shit didn't matter. Of course I ratted her out when she left half a glass of milk in the fridge, or she didn't clean out the litter tray and the cat started shitting on the rug instead. That kind of stuff. Who cares? When I started going to more and more specialists, I told her I was shit scared of going blind," Dave went on.

He nodded again. 

"She did some weird shit in high school. She always told me about it, even the freaky pseudo-Pagan witchcraft shit she was into for like a year. She told me about the parties she went to out of spite, and how she would kiss whichever girls that let her even when she knew they were only doing it for attention, because she hoped that eventually one of them would think it was more than that. I told her all my fuck ups, all that existentialist bullshit fear I had for years without knowing why. I told her about that one party in the eleventh grade, you know, the one where I fu - yeah."

"Yeah, I know the one," Karkat said. "I wish I could forget it, but I know that party."

"Dude, that party was literally life changing," Dave said, addressing Karkat directly for the first time since he'd arrived at the Starbucks. "The point is, we went through all that. I keep her secrets, she keeps mine. We don't keep our own."

"She was crying when I left if that helps."

"It doesn't."

"I don't know, you've met Kankri," Karkat said with a frown. "I set him on fire when I was twelve."

"I know. Look, it's weird, okay? She can do whatever she wants, she's twenty. But you think she'd be like, hey Dave, just so you know I'm fucking off next week. Like, before she dropped it on everyone else, you dig?" Dave said, sliding his glasses up onto his head. 

He wasn't crying. At least, not anymore.

"I don't even fucking know, man," he said, rubbing at one of his eyes with his sleeve pulled down over his thumb. "She's just up and leaving in three days? Three _fucking_ days and that's it, she's out? On what planet is that even a remotely cool thing to do? Fucking tell me that. Tell me that after all the bullshit, and the years of playing dangerous fucking secret keeping games, that it all comes crashing down like a game of Jenga in the Michael J. Fox house because she decides it's normal to just run the hell away from everything?"

Karkat didn't know what to say, or do. All he knew was that Dave had bolted and no one had run after him; his mom was understandably trying to process, but no one else had even stood up from the table. They all thought he'd just gone outside.

No one expected him to have run two full miles. 

"What do you want me to do?" Karkat asked. 

Dave picked up his coffee for the first time that afternoon, his hand shaking as he took a mouthful from the red paper cup. He put the drink back down, wiped at his eyes once more, then moved his glasses back into their rightful place perched high up on the bridge of his nose. 

"Get me the fuck back to New York tonight."

+++

"Hey, I know I've been a dick but so have you. I guess shit happens, right? I mean, shit. Fuck, no, fuck," he muttered, trailing off as he hit delete for the thirteenth time.

Ten seconds of Snapchat video wasn't enough to convey everything he'd been feeling for the past three days. 

He felt like the shittiest person for ditching Christmas so early it was still Christmas Day when he'd flown out of Seattle. He'd apologised to John, to his mom, and to Jade, who all just seemed at least happy he'd made it home safely. He'd called Jake the next day and explained - at least, he'd explained as much as he could put into words. 

He'd ignored almost everything Rose had thrown his way. Not entirely. He made sure to read message, so she knew he was there but deliberately ignoring her; read receipts were potentially the most malicious thing ever invented. 

"I fucking hate this shit, you know? I mean, what the fuck?"

He stopped recording again and tossed his phone down on his desk. It was pointless. Ten seconds wasn't even long enough for a rambler like him to get started. 

"I'm sorry."

Dave hadn't heard his door open. 

Rose stood in his doorway, one arm folded loosely across her stomach as she held her other wrist. 

"I didn't know how," she started, her voice catching in her throat. "I didn't know how to tell you, and then it was too late," she said. "I'm sorry."

It was an automatic reflex. Dave didn't even register that he'd stood up, or that he'd moved at all until he was caught off guard by the smell of damp wool coming from his sister's coat. 

He hadn't even noticed it was raining. 

When she let out a sob, he only held her tighter.

This was it. 

Rose worked her arms out from where they had been trapped against his chest and wrapped them around the back of his head, pulling his neck down at an awkward angle. 

She kissed his temple, and Dave knew it was all real. She was leaving, too soon, and things were going to change forever. 

He did all he could do and hugged her close, his fingers digging in against her heavy winter coat in an attempt to say everything he couldn't bring himself to verbalise. 

"I'll call you in the morning," Rose said quietly, then pressed a kiss to his cheek as she started to pull away. 

"A little bit longer," he said hoarsely. 

"The meter's running in the cab."

"I'll paypal you the difference."

"Tomorrow," she promised. 

With one final squeeze, Rose took a step back and let her arms slide down from around his shoulders. She smiled at him, weakly, and waved before she disappeared from the space in the hallway just outside his room. 

Dave didn't move to close his door until after he heard the elevator ding from down the hall. 

His phone beeped. 

Through clouded vision he skimmed the alert; the unexpected laugh that followed was what caused the tears to start, dripping down onto the shirt his sister had tainted with her floral perfume. 

TT: Take down the fairy lights. They make you look like a fourteen year old beauty blogger. 


	2. [A6.2A2]: she was very persuasive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which times are tough.

**January, 2016**

He'd known that, eventually, something awkward would happen. The feeling had been sitting heavily in his gut for days - although, that could have equally been attributed to nerves. It was hard to figure out which part of the scenario was causing him to feel the most anguish. 

It could have been that he knew he'd left the dinner dishes lying around the kitchen. Of course he hadn't cooked anything except the rice, he'd just microwaved leftover lamb curry from two nights earlier and heated up some store-bought chappati over the naked gas flames. Everything was still on the table, the stove, or the counter above the dishwasher. But considering his current situation, he figured the mess in the kitchen was the least of his concerns. 

He was definitely more put off by the fact his mom had opened the door to find them in the bathroom together.

It didn't matter that Karkat was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, outside the curtain, while Terezi took a shower. He knew his bathroom was smaller than hers back home, and that back in Toronto she didn't have to deal with the shower being over the tub. She didn't know where any of the faucets or shampoo bottles were, and it seemed like the least he could do. 

"Is this the conditioner?" Terezi asked. Her hand shot out from behind the shower curtain, the sudden movement threatening to reveal more than just the plastic bottle. 

"Yeah," he choked, quickly shifting his gaze from the shower to the doorway. "Hi, Mom." 

"I'll just shut the door," she said. 

"Thanks," Karkat muttered. "Well, _fuck_." 

"How embarrassing," Terezi mocked with a cackle. "I can't believe we just got caught with you _not_ trying to look at my tits!" 

"I already told you I'm not looking!"

"And I want to know why the hell not! I wouldn't even know if you were, remember? I'm blind!"

"Yeah, exactly. And I'm not looking because that's how you get arrested on the subway," he explained. 

"Your logic is flawed because we are definitely not on the subway," she said. "Would it change anything if I said there is a whole lot of soap on them right now?"

"Oh my god, stop," he groaned. "Just hurry up." 

"Okay, but this is your last chance," Terezi said. "Are you one hundred percent sure that you're sure?"

"Very."

"Okay, but you're the one missing out."

"Later." 

"You're so weird," Terezi laughed. "Or I guess you just have like, mega problems with being a stubborn asshole." 

"That," he replied, as the shower turned off. 

He picked up the towel and held it out, waiting for Terezi to take it after she pulled the curtain back. 

"Do you have my towel?"

"Yeah," he said, waving it in the hopes the movement would be enough for her to see; it didn't work. 

"Karkat!"

"It's right here!" 

"I can't see right here!"

"Oh my god!" Karkat exclaimed, turning around as he stood up, still brandishing the towel, closer to her than before. "Here!"

"Thanks," Terezi said brightly, taking the towel when he thrust it into her hands. "Okay, but on a scale of one to ten," she continued, her voice muffled as she started drying her hair. "How much of a lame ass pussy would you call yourself?"

"Today or in general?" 

"Surprise me," she said. She wrapped the towel around herself and held out her hand, waiting for Karkat to help her balance as she stepped up over the edge of the bathtub. 

"I dunno, like an eight, probably?" Karkat said once he let go of her hand. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet so Terezi had space to move. 

"So if you know you're being super lame, why don't you just not?" 

"Can you just put some clothes on?" 

"Okay," she said. 

" _Fuck_!" 

Karkat swore as Terezi let the towel drop from around her without any warning. 

"This is a game that is never going to not be funny," she said, laughing, then held out her hand again as she started making grabbing motions in his direction. "Undies, please." 

"Hey," he said, more gently than before. He pressed his forehead against hers then kissed her once, twice before pulling away as he handed her the mismatched bundle of pyjamas he'd been holding. "Nice tits." 

"Well that was just uncalled for," Terezi said flatly.

"Put some fucking clothes on," he muttered, kissing her again before he ducked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Karkat didn't know if his mom believed anything he'd told her. It was all the truth, most of it anyway, but she seemed more preoccupied with lecturing him over leaving perfectly good rice to crust over in the pot than with what had been happening in the bathroom. When she finished her rant - a trait he'd most definitely inherited - she slapped the back of his head, started to walk off, then changed her mind and kissed his hair and told him to clean up his mess. 

Karkat had seen enough movies in his life that when Terezi climbed onto him in the dark, he could see the entire, cliched plot his life had become. He'd missed her, more than he was prepared to admit, in the six months since he'd made the trip to Toronto. Hunched over as she sat on his stomach, Terezi kissed him over and over, as if she was trying to make up for all the time they'd spent apart. As he kissed back more urgently each time, Karkat propped himself onto his elbows and slowly moved them both until he was sitting up with her on his lap.

"Why?" Terezi asked, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Why would you do that?"

"Gap in the blinds," he replied between kisses. "Couldn't see you before." 

"Loser," she said gently, suddenly pulling back. "So you definitely shaved this morning, right?"

"Yeah," he said. He leant back on his hands as Terezi's fingers felt their way across his cheeks, reestablishing her points of reference. 

"So you definitely know it's already growing back, right?" 

"Mmhmm."

"So you know you probably look really stupid, right?" 

"Sure, why not?" Karkat agreed.

"Good, because general consensus is that you look really stupid all of the time anyway," Terezi said. She leant in and kissed him again, but stopped after just a few when she started fumbling. 

Karkat lifted up a hand and reached out for her waist when it felt as if she was losing her balance. 

She wasn't. 

" _Fuck,_ " he swore once he realised that Terezi had lifted her shirt up and over her head. 

"Idiot," she laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.

Her bare skin was cool against his own.

"I missed you," he mumbled in between kisses. "Really fucking missed you, fuck," he said.

"You're a huge dork," she replied, more gently than usual. "But I guess I misse - what are you doing?!" 

Terezi yelped as Karkat suddenly fell backwards, one arm wrapping tightly around her as he groped blindly for the edge of his blankets with the other.

"Shhh!" Karkat hissed. 

"Why?" 

"Dad just got home," he explained. 

He lay as still as he could, struggling to regulate his breathing in case his door opened unexpectedly; it was next to impossible with Terezi's chest pressed up against his. 

"Well," she whispered a few minutes later. "Are we still doing this or what?" 

"My parents are both home, down the hall, and it's your first night of ten here," he whispered back, still listening for any telling noises coming from out in the apartment. 

"So. Just second base?"

+++

The worst part about his hand connecting with the mug was that he saw the entire sequence of events that followed in a hazy slow motion. 

His first thought was for the coffee, and the coffee itself. It went everywhere, spilling onto his desk as the mug toppled and landed awkwardly on the back of his hand. It didn't burn; it had been sitting out for long enough it was almost at room temperature when the usually scalding liquid poured over his wrist. The mug was okay, luckily, because it was probably his current favourite. When the coffee seemed to have spilled as much as it was going to, he righted the San Diego Zoo mug and wiped his hand on his shirt. 

His phone had been lying directly in the firing line. 

He snatched up the device and rubbed it dry on his chest, working the fabric of his shirt into all the ports to clean up as much coffee as he could. It seemed okay. The screen responded to his touch and lit up; he breathed a sigh of relief. 

When he realised he was still holding his tablet pen between the fingers of his left hand, he put it down and moved the entire digital setup to the edge of his desk. 

He was so, so tired. 

Before he could think of what else to do, Dave peeled off his already coffee-stained shirt and used it to mop up the spill from the desk surface. It made sense. The shirt was absorbent, it already smelled of cheap coffee, and it was satisfying to imagine that the graphic of Lil' Cal on the chest was drowning. 

The damage was minimal. His phone seemed unscathed, his tablet had been far enough to the left it escaped even a splash, and everything else in range of the unexpected tide was dead and jarred.

The only thing he'd lost was his entire will to live. 

Dave had thrown himself right into the deep end as soon as classes resumed for the semester. He was going to outpace himself, do better, produce the most detailed illustrations he'd done yet, all in the name of attempting to improve his already high grades. He checked the time - just after four in the morning - and paused to figure out the math.

Thirty nine. He was going into hour forty with no sleep.

He hadn't left his dorm in days, and the college surrounds for weeks. He slept, he worked, he kept working, then he slept. Three days earlier, halfway through what ended up being a mammoth fifty one hours awake, he'd tried to go for a run and face planted on the treadmill less than half a mile in. He was living off occasional cafeteria runs, sneaking bags of cereal out of the hall and up to his room to go with his shitty coffee and vending machine Red Bulls. 

He had to get the A. 

He had to do better than the A. He had to get more than one. The second semester of his second year of college, that was when the archaeologists would eventually pinpoint it all beginning. Dave Lalonde's ascent into being the academic child of the family began in Spring semester, 2016. He only ever got straight A's after that. 

Rose had fallen apart. Someone had to take her place, live up to the family name and reputation. 

The world was on his shoulders.

Again. 

When Dave realised he'd referred to himself as a Lalonde, he scoffed and threw the stained shirt over his shoulder in the direction of his laundry pile. 

"Strider," he mumbled. "It's Strider, you fucking dumbass."

He pushed back from his desk, picked up his mug, and started the hunt for a floor in his building that still had a working coffee machine.

+++

"Why're you up, love?"

Rose opened her eyes when the voice, sharply accented and still not entirely familiar, broke through the silence that had previously filled the cozy living room. 

"I can't sleep," she said, her voice scratching in her throat. "Although that does feel like rather an understatement of the situation."

She had a dull ache nestled deep within her brain, was exhausted but couldn't sleep despite the time, and her stomach was wracked with sharp spasms alternating with the occasional wave of nausea. 

After living with trembling hands for weeks as she had cut back, Rose found herself hardly inclined to even count that as symptom of her detox anymore. 

"What day're you on?" Porrim asked as she sat down on the arm of the sofa. "This is two, yeah?"

"Technically," Rose nodded. 

"Leave it to me, I've done this loads of times."

Rose sat still, cocooned in a doubled over blanket, as Porrim pressed a hand to her forehead, then cheeks, and took her left wrist to check her pulse. It all seemed like a bit too much, but Rose knew she had to start letting things happen around her if anything was going to change. 

"You smell like marijuana," she said, her eyes fluttering closed again as a wave of weariness washed over her, however temporary it was going to be. 

"I said I've done this before, but I never said it stuck. Have you eaten?"

"I had the potatoes at dinner."

"And?"

"And I salted them?" 

"Right," Porrim said. "Up you get, on three."

"I'd really rather not."

"And I'd really rather not still have you like this in the morning but this is where we are, love. Now get up and we'll get some food into you," Porrim said, a little more sharply than before. 

With a guiding hand on her shoulder and the blanket clasped tightly in her fist, Rose slowly got to her feet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was glad it had been the older of the two Maryam girls who found her.

Just because Kanaya knew what was going on didn't mean she should have to deal with it alone any longer. 

She was too proud to ask her own family for help; Porrim's experience was a contributing factor in their decision to move.

"Eat up," Porrm said suddenly. 

Rose lifted her head and leant it against the wall; she'd managed to doze off sitting upright at the kitchen table. 

She stared at the two slices of buttered toast in front of her, and only glanced away when Porrim sat down opposite her with two mugs in hand.

"Heavy on the milk, heavier on the sugar," she said, pushing one of the steaming mugs across the table. "It's good for you."

Rose seemed skeptical, but she was hardly in a position to complain. As Porrim sat back and sipped from her own mug of tea, Rose braved sticking out a hand to pick up one slice of the toast.

"Why were you out tonight?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Rose paused everything but her chewing. 

"I was just making conversation."

"And so was I," Porrim said. "The actual answer is still something I'd never tell."

"How illegal was your evening?"

"Hardly. Most of it was in more of a morally grey area," she shrugged. "How's your food?"

"It tastes like buttered toast with a side of sweet tea," Rose said. 

"Touché," Porrim replied. She stood up and held out her mug to Rose, who had no choice but to take the chipped porcelain in order to get it out of her face. 

Rose watched as Porrim rummaged through her purse for a few moments, then as she turned on the gas stove just long enough to light the cigarette between her lips. She lifted herself up onto the kitchen bench beside the range, turned the exhaust fan to its lowest setting, and held the cigarette under it with one hand as she gestured to Rose to return her tea with the other. 

"Do they all join up?" Rose asked, her eyes following one of the twisting tattoos that began at the tip of Porrim's left index finger and disappeared into her shirt sleeve. 

"Less join up, more share the same point of origin," Porrim replied. She blew a lungful of smoke out towards the fan. "Think about it hard enough and you can guess where."

"Hm," Rose mused.

"You interested in any, love? I know a kid, real good lad, he did the tricky bits of mine and he did a right good job."

"I think I'm a little busy the next few weeks," she said with a small laugh; a sharp stab of pain shot through her head when she moved faster than her aching body was willing. 

"You got any?" Porrim asked, exhaling cigarette smoke one last time before she switched the fan off and rejoined Rose at the small table. 

"Me? No. When my mother was in graduate school, she worked on an equation that needed solving, a physics problem you see. She was on the team who solved it. It was a huge breakthrough in her PhD research and it enabled her to do more than she'd anticipated. She has that equation somewhere, on her left foot I think it is," Rose explained. "My uncle, on the other hand."

"Do tell."

"After his Senior prom he let his best friend give him a backyard tattoo which he kept for a disgustingly long time. The same year he got a _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ reference on his right arm. At some point he had the backyard mess covered up with a mermaid king, the significance of which he's never really explained," Rose said. She stopped talking for long enough to take another bite of cold toast. "The crow on his left side runs down his ribs, and the skull is sort of here," she went on, trying to indicate the position on her own body. She couldn't quite reach far enough back, not between the aches and her blanket, but it was enough to give Porrim the general idea. "Only the crow is dead, its right wing crushed and broken, and the skull is not only human but features both entry and exit wounds from a nine millimetre pistol."

"Do you have pictures?" Porrim asked, intrigued. She was leaning forward on the table, her chin propped up on one arm and her tea almost empty. 

Rose knew that Porrim was just trying to keep her occupied, to keep her mind busy until she was able to sleep properly or morning broke; whichever came first. 

"Somewhere," Rose said. She picked up her phone and unlocked the screen. 

"So the corpses are just for fun?"

"Sentimental. Dave loves birds, dead things, and dead birds. Jake, his husband, has a blatantly fetishistic love of skulls and guns."

"Nice."

"Mmm," Rose nodded. "I can't find the corpses, but here's the mermaid king," she added, trying to turn the phone in her hand. 

As the trembling increased, her fingers suddenly spasmed, and sent the iPhone crashing onto the tiled floor. 

Rose could only stare as the device landed face down. 

She didn't just let her head roll back against the wall - she hit it, twice, against the plaster and looked up at the ceiling; it was taking all of her strength not to start crying. 

"Hey, no point in that when it's not even broken," Porrim said. 

She was right; when Rose moved to look, her phone was lying on the table once more, still intact. 

"This is so hard," she said quietly. 

"Of course it is. The worst of it will be over by the end of the week, so we should look at getting your life sorted out."

"Well considering that I dropped out of the Ivy League and fled the country, I feel as if my options are suddenly somewhat limited," Rose said. She took another drink of her overly sweetened tea, taking the time to flex her fingers in an attempt to control the shaking. 

"So we start from the bottom," Porrim said. "Short term, we get you to the end of the week. Longer term, we get you through the next six weeks, or at least the clinic does. What next?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "Ideally, I'll break from the family tradition and manage not to continually relapse for the next thirty years. I'd like for us to get our own apartment sooner rather than later, just a small one, but an apartment nonetheless. I might consider taking up an old hobby to fill the days until I can work here, perhaps sit and write, and occasionally assist Kanaya with her ever-flourishing business by acting as a living dressform. I think that would all make her happy, and that's really all I want right now."

Porrim laughed, loudly, but caught herself and tried to work her expression into something more sympathetic. 

"Oh, honey, have you seen the rent prices in London? You need to walk before you can run. Think smaller, but achievable. Something you really want."

Rose pursed her lips, but she knew that Porrim had an extremely valid point. 

"What do you suggest?"

"Let's get you a tattoo. I already told you, I know a guy."

"I'll consider it," Rose said. "If you consider this idea for the long term: in six weeks, should I succeed in making it through what will no doubt be the worst six weeks of my life, I'll propose." 

She hadn't exactly been planning to let anyone know of her intentions so soon, but there was something so calming about Porrim's caring presence that it slipped out before she could really consider the implications of what she was saying. 

"It's nice you've got a plan, but that's six weeks away. We should get you the tattoo first, my shout," Porrim said. "Just tell me what you want and I'll get someone on it. Just no tramp stamps and nothing on your pretty little face." 

Rose smiled. 

It wasn't the worst idea in the world. 

"I think I might know someone who can help." 

[03:14]TT: Not to be "that guy", but I require some art from you. Of course, I have no income of my own and nothing to give you in return but to have whatever image you design permanently inked onto my body.  
[03:14] -- turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum! --  
[03:14]TT: Oh, for Pete's sake Dave, it's ten o'clock in the morning, don't you have a class to attend?

+++

"Rez, you know I love you and your dedication to trying to steal the shit-tier trolling crown out from under me, but _fuck_ , you'd think if I didn't answer the second time to just give the fuck up."

"You're right," Terezi's voice replied, distorted through speakerphone. "And yet you answered on the sixth try."

"What do you want?"

"We're gonna get some food, want to come?"

"I've got shit to do," Dave replied. 

He had so much shit to do. Judging by the fact it was apparently after three in the afternoon, he'd already slept through his Wednesday classes. That wasn't an ideal situation, but it was something he could deal with; all he had to do was send an email playing the disability card he'd been saving for an emergency. He didn't know how many times he could get away with it, and it was still early in the semester, but blaming something he couldn't help would at least buy him some time. 

"Dave!"

"What?"

"I've been in New York for four whole days and I haven't seen you yet!"

"You can't see me anyway," he muttered, finally trying to sit up. "It's kind of your whole schtick." 

"You know what I mean."

"Look, I'm busy," he repeated. 

"We'll come to you, or like, close enough anyway. Meet us at the Shake Shack in Midtown," Terezi said. 

"What part of _I'm fuckin' busy_ aren't you listening to, Rez?" Dave snapped. 

"What part of _We're going to Shake Shack and Karkat says if you're not there he's gonna come and drag you out of your room by the dick if you're not here in half an hour_ don't you understand, _Dave_?"

"Are you already there?"

"Almost. See you in half an hour!"

Before Dave could say anything else, Terezi disconnected the phone call. 

He rolled out of bed and shuffled over to his desk, just to check on everything he'd done the day before. His last Photoshop file had been saved at one in the morning; he'd slept for fourteen hours. 

It was a twenty minute trip uptown, so he only had ten to get ready. He didn't know if had been a day, or two, since he'd last showered but there wasn't any time for that; Karkat might not literally drag him down the block by the dick, but if he was late it wouldn't be pretty. He brushed his teeth, doused his hair in dry shampoo, and picked out some jeans and a shirt from his floor. 

A hat, heavy winter coat, and a pair of waterproof boots later, Dave pulled the door to his dorm room shut.

He had to go back for his subway pass. 

"You're late," Terezi said accusingly as he sat down and began unbuttoning his jacket. 

They'd managed to keep a chair free for him at the table, but someone had taken the fourth across the restaurant floor. 

"I had to wait for a train, relax," he said. "Thirty four minutes isn't bad."

"Well it's not great either," she said. 

"Bullshit, that's a fuckin' land-speed record right there," he said. "So we getting food or what?"

"Yeah, we were waiting for your sorry ass," Karkat said. He stood up from the table and nodded towards the counter, causing Dave to roll his eyes and follow suit after hanging his jacket over the back of his now occupied chair. "The fuck have you been doing for two weeks?"

"Huh?" Dave asked; he was too preoccupied with reading the menu to have heard the question. 

"You've been MIA for like two weeks, you shit shoveller!" 

"You're a fucking liar, Vantas, I've been in my dorm the whole time."

"Exactly! Why?"

"Because I go to college and have to get my shit done?" Dave suggested, taking a step forward as the line shifted up a little closer to the counter. He frowned, then hooked a finger through the belt loop on the back of his jeans and hitched his pants back up over his hips. 

The gesture didn't go unnoticed. 

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That."

"What?"

"The whole hiking up your pants all casual as fuck thing," Karkat said. 

"Dude, what's the alternative? Let my ass hang out for all of Midtown to cop a look at? For free?" Dave deflected. "So are you getting fries to like, share with Rez or some each?"

"Your jeans are like a fucking 30, right?"

"Sometimes? I dunno. Wait, shit, what about cheese fries?"

"Oh, I am fucking _onto_ you, Lalonde! You're stuck in the hellish Christmas Commissions loop of working until you collapse, aren't you, you fucking idiot? Work, sleep, piss, work, work, sleep, work, work!"

"You're right, always cheese fries," Dave said, adjusting his beanie with two hands just to make himself look busy.

"What did you drop this time, like five fucking pounds just from being a dumbass?"

"I dunno, like five, or eight and a half, sure. Are you getting Rez's food or am I? Wait, am I paying for everyone's?"

"Great, so now I have to call your dad and be like, hey, Strider, your kid's too far out in the pool and the lifeguard quit so the deep end is completely un-fucking-supervised?!" Karkat scowled. "Maybe I'll call the circus and tell them there's an albino fucking Bigfoot living on the Lower East Side they might want to kidnap because at least then you'd be forced to stick to a fucking schedule!"

"Chill, bro. S'all good."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"Shh."

Dave frowned as he watched Karkat take out his phone. There was no way he would call Dirk - even after he'd been personally invited to his wedding, to family Christmas, and had his private number, he still couldn't hold a conversation with the guy without his own blood pressure going through the roof. 

Dave opened his mouth to point out exactly what he'd been thinking, but Karkat held up a single, threatening finger as the call connected. 

He hadn't called Dirk. 

At least, not unless Dirk had taken up studying Urdu in his down time. 

"Oh, fuck, man! What the hell, no. No way. Karkat, bro, don't even," he said. "Do not even _Inception_ the foundations of an idea. Bad plan, worst friend."

He tried to grab the phone out of Karkat's hand, but there were too many people around to tackle him for it. 

"Mom says pack extra underwear. The weather's turning." 

"Fuck off," Dave snapped. "No fucking way."

"Hey, I just said the dorms aren't exactly prepared for a blizzard and then she was like, well we better get him over here."

"Dude, one day when you least expect it, I'm gonna fuck up your shit so bad that - yeah, uh, let's see," Dave said, cutting himself off when he made it to the front of the line. "Three SmokeShacks, two fries and one cheese fries, and uh, three root beers. Large." 

He waved his phone over the card reader and authorised the payment, took the receipt, and stepped aside to wait, all with Karkat still hovering smugly half a step behind him. 

"She wants to know what you want for dinner."

"A big plate of shut the fuck up would be good."

"Yeah, we're out."

"Fine, whatever. But I'm staying up until I get my current project done."

"Hey, tell Mom not me."

"Non-negotiable, dude. I owe someone a favour."

+++

She knew that she cared too much. 

Rose had assured her time and time again that it was not her fault; her tendency to dote and hover and enable had not been the cause of any problems. The problems had always bubbled just below the surface, threatening to overflow since long before they had started college. 

The speed at which things had gone downhill was remarkable. 

Kanaya knew most of the story. She had witnessed it firsthand back in school, when their only means of communication was online. The rest had been filled in by Rose in the two and a half years since. 

She had started drinking at parties because it was expected. There was always alcohol in the house and no one to keep track of what was being drunk on a day-to-day basis. In twelfth grade, her habits were no different to those of her classmates; parties were for binge drinking, but only when her brother stayed home. 

It was even easier to access drinks in college. There were always other people around, ones who had believable fake I.Ds or were actually over twenty-one to make the purchases on her behalf. First year was uneventful, save for the few occasions around finals. 

In the last year or so, Rose had lost what little control she had over her impulses and things had only spiralled from there. 

It was not her fault. 

Kanaya knew that there was nothing she could have done, because addiction didn't work that way. It was all she could do to be there when Rose needed her, to be the one consistent thing in an inconsistent world. 

It made her heart ache to see Rose struggling, every day, just trying to keep herself afloat. She did what she could to make things easy at home. She dried Rose's tears, cleaned up the bathroom after she was sick, and even helped her to shower or bathe when she couldn't do it herself. 

The plan to move had grown larger than anything either of them had originally had in mind. It had rapidly gone from idealised visions of their shared future told in bed on lazy Saturday mornings, to what seemed like a viable way to realise that future in a surprisingly short amount of time. 

One of them was always going to have to make the choice. 

When they decided on the UK over America, Kanaya was forced to admit that she had been a little overzealous when they were younger and still trying to impress each other. While it was true she had been living as a boarder, she was only there on an academic scholarship; she had attended the local primary school until the end of grade six. Her mother had worked as a nanny for as long as Kanaya could remember. It wasn't the most glamorous or well-paying of careers, but it was enough for the family to get by. They lived in a modest terraced house in the north of London, purchased by her mother with family money back when she had first migrated to England with Porrim. They had only lived in the house for three months when Kanaya was born. 

It certainly wasn't as grand or open as the Lalonde house in Upstate New York, but it was home - their home, now - and Rose had loved it on sight. 

In the weeks since they had flown across the Atlantic on one-way tickets, things had continued to move at an incredible pace.

It was reassuring to know that Rose had gone through a sudden detox and come out of it unscathed. She was still suffering from the occasional bout of stomach cramps and she described her overall state of being as something akin to extreme sleep deprivation, but she was through the worst of the process. The nights she had been in physical pain were the hardest on both of them. 

Those nights had passed, but Rose was in pain once again. 

When the corner of her blonde eyebrow twitched, Kanaya found it difficult to suppress a giggle. 

"Why, are you laughing at me, Miss Maryam?" Rose asked, laboriously opening her eyes again. 

"I'd never," Kanaya replied, despite the smile playing on her lips. "For a moment there it looked as if you were in quite a bit of a pain."

"Me? No, you must be mistaken. Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Just a feeling."

"I see," Rose said. "How is it looking?" 

"I can't see from here."

When Rose flinched as the needle passed over her spine once more, Kanaya couldn't help but let out a laugh. 

"Here," Porrim said. Kanaya turned her head to take a look at the progress photo on her sister's phone screen. 

"Lovely," Rose said. She closed her eyes once more and tried not to let her head fall forwards as she tried her best to relax. 

The tattoo was Porrim's idea no matter how the two of them tried to spin it. When Rose had sent a request to her brother for a design, Kanaya immediately panicked. She - like every one of their shared friends - had been keeping up with Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff for years and there was no way Rose would let anything like the comic characters live permanently on the nape of her neck. 

Dave had taken less than twenty four hours to send through an image; to Kanaya's complete surprise, it was gorgeous. 

Rose had given him nothing to work with. No suggestions, opinions, or even colour schemes. The result was simple, yet striking. It was clearly a sun, its rays spreading out from around a central sphere. However, the sun itself was filled with bright yellow clouds spilling neon rain into an ocean made up of vibrant cyan and magenta water. The design fit neatly on her nape, the top few rays from the sun weaving higher up her neck while the others spread across towards her shoulder blades and down her spine. 

"I think it will be much nicer once it stops bleeding," Kanaya said. "But yes, lovely." 

"Wonderful."

"And how about you?"

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine," Rose said. "As fine as one can be in the fourth consecutive hour of being tattooed." 

"You're doing fantastic, love," Porrim said. "Shouldn't be much longer now, just bits of colour to finish filling in and touching up. It's a nice looking thing, too."

Kanaya wheeled her chair a little closer and took Rose's hand; her knuckles were white and her fingers stiff from clenching her fists for hours on end. 

"You're enjoying this a little too much," Rose said. "And I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it."

"I wouldn't say _too much_ , but it is certainly the most amusing thing I've seen in quite a while." 

"Good, because I'm undecided on if this will be a recurring thing."

"I knew moving you here would be a bad idea," Kanaya said. She laughed again as Rose flinched once more. "It's only been a few weeks and my terrible influence of a sister has already talked you into this."

"She was very persuasive," Rose said. "And for once my darling brother decided not be a fucking douche when I asked him for the favour." 

"He did take it very seriously from the beginning."

"He's too sweet to ever really mean it," she continued. "The sheer amount of space in his heart is one of his worst-kept secrets."

+++

"I hate you both, you both suck, and I quit being your friend." 

"That's not even a thing that's remotely true," Terezi said. As she recovered from her fit of laughter, she pushed herself back up into a sitting position on the floor. 

"Not only is it true," Dave said pointedly. "But it's your fault."

"Overruled! That's opinion, not fact!" 

"Let me put it this way, Rez," he said, sitting down on the other couch with a bowl of cereal. "There's three of us in this fuckin' apartment right now and you're the only one who still thinks hiding photos of Lil' Cal everywhere is funny."

"False! Karkat acted as a willing accomplice, therefore he must have also found it hilarious," Terezi said, leaning back against the couch and resting her head against Karkat's leg. 

"No, he acted as a willing accomplice because you were busy jerking each other off all night." 

Dave had been coerced into staying at the Vantas's apartment until the storm passed. The worst part about sleeping in Kankri's old bedroom wasn't just that it had once belonged to Kankri, it was that it shared a wall with Karkat's room and headphones could only do so much.

"Overruled again, Dave. It was definitely not all night." 

"Doesn't make it any better," he said, abandoning his cereal in favour of hand feeding Paul her breakfast. 

"Hey, look at the bright side," she said. "You slept through the night instead of staying awake for three whole days for no reason."

"Yeah, it's great because now I'm behind again," Dave said irritably. "And it's still snowing like fuck outside."

"So?"

"So I don't have time to be stuck here with you assholes when I've got so much shit to get done."

"Wow, rude," Terezi said after a slight pause. "If you want I can make sure Karkat makes even less noise tonight." 

"Great, yeah, that'll help," he said as he lifted Paul up onto his shoulder. "Oh, check that out, baby girl, look at all that altitude you're getting. I'm going to get this shit done."

"Mom left food for lunch," Karkat said. "It's going in the microwave at one." 

"Cool, but I have to get this shit done today. I mean, we all know that I'm all about your mom's cooking, like for real that shit is god-tier. But y'know, I got behind because of Rosie's shit and now my project is due like, tomorrow? I don't know. What day is it?" Dave asked. It wasn't until he closed the bedroom door behind him that he realised that no one had answered because he was both mumbling and out of earshot anyway.

Dave sat down at Kankri's old desk, loaded his laptop, and put Paul down under the lamp to help her stay warm. 

He opened the project file he thought would be the fastest to get done; it was three hours before he could convince himself he was finished, and another forty five minutes before he could accept that there was nothing left to edit. 

He was still cleaning up his lines another half hour later. 

It was four in the afternoon when he finally had to use the bathroom badly enough that it felt worth getting up. 

"We knocked," Terezi said when Dave dropped onto the couch beside her. 

"Headphones, sorry," he said. "I'm good. I'll eat later." 

"So I know that it is definitely not my job to ask but what's the deal with you and your sudden interest in actually having a work ethic?" Terezi asked. 

Dave slouched down on the couch and moved Paul to his stomach, where she could stretch out more comfortably than on his shoulder. Terezi was looking at him, in his direction, and without her glasses on he could see that her eyes were moving back and forth, trying to settle on where to focus. 

"Gross, you're even starting to sound like Karkat," Dave said. "You're spending way too much time on our side of the border."

"That's definitely false, I don't spend anywhere near as much time here as I should." 

"Nah, it's so soppy and gross and I'm like, who even are you anymore, you know?" 

"Dave, you are just ignoring the question." 

"I told Rose I'd get the grades for her," he said simply. "Happy?"

"Now who is the soppy and gross one?" Terezi asked smugly, elbowing him in the ribs as she laughed. 

"Rez." 

"David." 

"You're wearing Karkat's track pants."

"They are comfy," she said defensively, trying to her best to maintain eye contact. 

"Please just tell me you didn't fuck right where I'm sitting." 

"His room."

"You have no idea how glad I am that Paul was with me all day," Dave said, scratching his dragon between her ears. "Imagine having to witness a sight like that with your own real life working eyes. I mean for real, I've accidentally seen his ass and yeesh, that's not a thing I want my baby to see any more than she has to." 

"I can't imagine his ass. I don't even know what an ass looks like." 

"Blind joke, nice one," he said with a snort of laughter. "So he's asleep, right?"

"He was when I left him," Terezi said, leaning in against Dave. She lifted his arm up and shifted around until she was comfortable. When she stopped moving, he put his arm down again, around her shoulders, and waited for her to continue. "Have you talked to John lately?"

"Yeah, most days. He's doing okay."

"I called Vriska this morning," Terezi said bluntly. "It didn't exactly go well." 

"You did good, Rez," Dave said reassuringly. "So, what's it like being back Stateside?" 

He figured that changing the subject before it could get too deep was the best course of action. 

"It kind of sucks dicks, Dave."

'Oh, c'mon, I don't want to know." 

"Okay, yeah, that too but that's not what I meant and you know it," she said, elbowing him a lot more roughly than before. "It sucks because it's really cool to visit, but it's only a trip and I have to go home at the end of it." 

"Just move here," Dave suggested. "It's what all the cool kids are doing these days." 

"And I am the coolest of kids," Terezi said. "I'm taking extra classes," she added after a pause. "So I can graduate next year not the year after. Don't tell Karkat yet, he'll just cry and it'll be embarrassing." 

"Awesome, my lips are as sealed as the Duff sisters'," he said. "Wanna watch something?"

"You choose." 

They were halfway through the third episode of _Master of None_ when Karkat emerged from his room in Terezi's too-small sweat pants and nothing else. 

"Sup?" Dave asked. 

"Have either of you looked outside?"

"Yeah, I did," Terezi said. "It looked like being blind."

"Nice one," Dave said. "Fistbump," he added, rapping his knuckles against Terezi's. "Anyway, what's up?" 

"There was like two and a half feet of snow today. My parents aren't allowed to leave the hospital in case they can't get back for their next shift."

+++

John had often wondered how he would die. It wasn't a deliberate train of thought he liked to follow, but years of nightmares had conditioned him into questioning his own mortality. Most of the time he was sure it would be death by unlabelled ground nut, but sometimes his brain wandered into the irrational worries of being crushed by a falling moon. Recently, he'd developed a somewhat understandable fear of car crashes. 

But despite everything his subconscious had thrown at him over the years, he'd never considered being accidentally mauled to death by an overzealous dog that weighed as much as he did. 

"Augh! Bec, get down!" John exclaimed. He took a step back as Bec jumped up to lick his face, grabbing the dog's front legs to guide him back to the ground instead. "Sit! Bec, sit, dammit!"

"Surprise!" Jade exclaimed as she peeked out from behind the door.

John tried his best not to frown. When he'd promised her over breakfast that he'd take her to the DMV to finally organise her Washington state I.D, he hadn't intended for it to be that afternoon. It had been raining almost non-stop for an entire week and he was sick of driving when it was wet; his glasses made it even more annoying because they would fog up at the most inopportune times. 

"How did you even get here?" 

"I got the bus. It was fun! That was your last class, right?"

"Yeah. Wait, the DMV is in Kent, why did you come all the way to Seattle?"

"Because it's an adventure, John! Did you know it's still raining?" Jade asked, absent-mindedly patting Bec's head as he tried to start leading them towards the door. "We got off the bus too early and had to walk for half a mile to get here, but it was nice. It's weird that the rain feels so cold, is it always cold like that? I don't remember." 

"Yeah, it's Seattle rain," John said. He stopped in the doorway to do up the buttons on his jacket. "Jade."

"Yeah?" 

"I think it's just you that's cold," he went on, finally paying attention to his cousin since Bec was finally occupied. 

It seemed fair to say that Jade was still adjusting to life back in America. It wasn't exactly freezing outside - it was over forty degrees - but she was standing on the sidewalk in a long skirt, a Christmas sweater, and John's old windbreaker which wasn't even zipped up. 

"No, the rain is cold," she insisted, falling into step beside John to make the walk to his car. "It rains in rainforests, but it's not cold, it's like taking a warm shower!" 

"That sounds kind of gross? Like, when you sit on a toilet that's still warm from someone else's butt kind of weird," he said. 

"At least it's not cold all the time," Jade shrugged. "Where is your car, anyway?" 

"Two blocks that way," John said, pointing towards the next street corner. "I got here early enough that I found a spot kind of close." 

"Oh, can we get hot chocolates for the drive home?" Jade asked suddenly. 

When John felt his heart inexplicably skip a beat, he automatically reached out and grabbed her wrist. 

"I," he said. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? Can we cross yet?" 

"Yeah," he said. "And yeah, we can," John added quickly, finally answering Jade's question. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I thought I heard, I mean, like trying to stop. And yeah, before we crossed I thought there was a car, so I stopped, but you, and I guess it was going the other way or it was somewhere else," he tried explaining. "I'm okay, really." 

"Then why are you still holding my hand?" Jade asked. 

John quickly let his fingers slide off her wrist and tucked his hand into his jacket pocket. 

"Uh."

"John," she said, grabbing him by the elbow of his jacket as soon as they finished crossing the street. "What's wrong?" 

"I thought there was a car coming," he replied, staring down at Jade's neon green rain boots. "I heard tires." 

"Come on, it's raining," Jade said.

John let her loop her arm around his for the damp walk back to the car. It wasn't far, just another block and a half, and those few minutes weren't quite enough to stop his heart from beating just a little too fast. 

"It's open," he said, sitting down in the driver's seat. 

"Bec, shake! Good boy, Bec! Now get in the car and sit quietly, please," Jade said as she opened the rear passenger's side door for her dog. "Good sit!" 

"Does he need to pee first?"

"Nope, he did before," she said, pulling the front door closed as she sat down. "Can you drive?"

John paused. 

"Can we wait five minutes?"

"Are you sure you can drive right now? It's raining a lot," Jade asked. 

"I know! I know it's raining, Jade! It always rains in Seattle and it's always dangerous to drive even when you use both hands and you can see with two eyes and you're not on your cell phone!" John exclaimed suddenly. 

Even hunched over with his forehead pressed against the top of the steering wheel, he knew Jade was staring at him. 

He didn't know what to do. 

He just closed his eyes and waited for everything to stop happening.

It was twenty minutes later when he heard someone knock on the driver's side window of his car. 

John pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand and wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He didn't even know he'd been crying.

It was his dad. 

"We're going to need to make a few changes. John, you take Jade's seat and Bec, move over to let Jade sit in the back, if you would," Dad said. "Now, Jade, I'm going to need you to send a message for me." 

John unbuckled his seatbelt and once Jade was out of the car, he climbed over the center console to sit back down in the passenger's seat. He checked the buckle three times before his dad even turned on the ignition. 

"Okay," Jade said, once she was settled in the back seat with Bec's head resting on her lap.

"Can you send Roxy a message and ask her to order pizza for everyone in about twenty minutes? Tell her we'll be eating in the living room. If she gets a moment, can you also ask her to take the laundry I ran this morning out of the dryer?"

"Was that all?" 

"I suppose you should tell her we're all on our way and should be home in about an hour," Dad said. "Do you have a pizza opinion, John?" 

"No," John said. "Vegetarian," he added after a pause. 

He put his head against the cold window and watched as raindrops hit the glass with more and more force as the car sped up. It had been raining for days, and there was no sign of the skies letting up anytime soon. There was so much water on the roads that it all splashed up as the cars in front of theirs drove through deceptively deep puddles. 

They stopped at a red light. 

John closed his eyes. 

His heart still felt wrong as it beat too hard in his chest.


	3. Interfishin' 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which as least one mystery is solved.

**January, 2016**

"Oi, you feelin' up to pullin' ya own weight today or nah?"

"You're fucking _kidding_ me," Vriska said in disbelief. "I'm _awake_ , I'm _here_ , and I'm not allowed to have any more Percocet because _apparently_ it's addictive and six weeks is already too long!"

"I was just fuckin' with ya, baby Serk," Meenah said, cocking an eyebrow from across the deck. "But sounds like someone's edgy today." 

"Were you not listening to the part where I have _zero_ Percocet left?" 

"Not really, nah. You want a sandwich?"

"Ugh," Vriska groaned. "Fine. A Cuban without any of the extra shit. And an iced coffee with extra ice, it's like eighty degrees." 

"Anythin' else?"

"No."

"Good, 'cause I'm still fuckin' with ya," Meenah said. 

Vriska scowled. 

"Wait!" 

"What now?"

"Can you do something about this?" Vriska asked, gesturing to her hair with her right hand. "It's all in my face and stuck to my neck and just fucking gross." 

"Lemme get that sandwich first," Meenah said. "Ain't no way I can get back to work without sterilisin' my hands after I touch that shit you ain't washed in weeks." 

" _Fine_."

Vriska slouched down in her chair but winced in pain when the angle was too much for her shoulder to take. 

She didn't remember much about the accident. All she could recall, as hard as she tried to focus, was Terezi screaming. She was sure that her own voice had been in the mix somewhere, but nothing after that. Just the screaming. 

It was two weeks before she woke up.

When she came to, it was in the most unexpected of places. While she'd been under, in an induced coma, her sister had put in a request for her to be transferred to Miami as soon as she was stable. She'd been in Seattle for a week while they worked out what to do, then transferred her to Miami for the surgery.

Her shoulder was damaged in the crash, but not beyond repair. Screws were put in her collarbone and shoulder blade to keep everything in place while it healed. 

From the shoulder down, however, was a different story altogether. 

There wasn't much of her original arm left beyond the skin and muscle. 

Her elbow and and two inches of bone either side of it had been replaced. Her wrist had been reconstructed with bone fragments, pins, and screws and would never regain the dexterity she'd had before.

She still couldn't feel her fingers.

They told her it would be two months before they risked taking out the pins, and at least four before she would even find out if she could rotate her shoulder.

"Here's ya sandwich," Meenah said, sliding the plate across the table. "And ya coffee. Now, let's sort out that fuckin' mess."

"Wow, you even cut it into eighths," Vriska said. "It's like I'm an invalid over here or something."

"Want me to punch ya in the shoulder an' find out? Hold still, would ya?"

"It's hard when you're ripping my fucking hair out!"

"Stop bein' such a baby and deal wit it," Meenah said.

"That was deliberate!" Vriska yelped, when Meenah pulled at a section of hair as she started twisting it into a tight French braid. 

"A course it was, you baby. Just sit there and eat ya glubbin' sandwich or ya ain't gettin' no dessert."

"Wow, what a threat," Vriska snapped.

She picked up a section of her sandwich and bit into it with as much force as she could without moving her head. 

"Now, you gonna keep sulking out here or ya gonna come in where it's cool?" Meenah asked as she wrapped the second braid in a tie. "Your choice but that pasty white skin 'a yours ain't gonna hold up much longer."

"Well, I can't carry everything," Vriska said as she stood up from the outdoor table, sandwich plate in her right hand. 

"Course ya can't, Serk, ya got that busted to shit arm goin' on," Meenah said, picking up the tall glass of iced coffee.

Vriska scowled when she caught the end of an eyeroll as she walked through the door propped open by Meenah's foot. 

It was a lot cooler back inside the bakery. The mid-afternoon lull had begun a little while earlier; not that it mattered to Vriska. 

Aranea had gone back to work a week after Vriska had begun to reduce her pain medication. A new semester had started and there were only so many of her allotted lectures she could handball to someone else in the faculty. The only option was to drop her at the bakery with Meenah for the day.

Vriska had never been so bored in her life. 

"Eat these," Meenah said, sitting down opposite Vriska at the corner table. 

"Like, now?"

"For the love of all shit what's holy, yeah, eat 'em now."

"Why?" Vriska asked suspiciously. 

"Test batch of a new recipe."

"What's so new about them?"

"You know, ratios and shit, all the sciency shit what goes into a business like this," Meenah said. 

"Like more of the chocolate chips?"

"Yeah, sorta. Except not the chocolate chips, any idiot can get that shit right. If ya think ya got enough, add another cup, end of story."

"So what's up with these? They're okay," Vriska said with a shrug. "I like those other ones from yesterday better."

"Damn straight ya did," Meenah scoffed. "Those ones was for the shop. These ones are just a test, see? Like, why bother gettin' the fancy ass kitchen shit at home when I got this here, ya know?"

"So what, it's just a sugar cookie with chocolate in it. Big deal," Vriska said. "They're good."

"Hey, hey, sugar cookies with chocolate _and hash_ ," Meenah corrected. "Need a new recipe for Friday night fuck ups and it's already Friday mornin'," she said. 

"And you waited until I ate both to tell me?" Vriska asked incredulously. 

"Course I did, had to make sure ya ate 'em all. It's a pretty weak shipment this week, y'know?" 

"You figure?"

"Yeah, normally only takes one to shut Aranea up when she's on a roll. Yesterday gave her one a these an' nothin'. Had to go to option b to get her to stop crappin' on bout some shit in her research."

"What the fuck is option b?"

"Unzip my pants and put her to work," Meenah said with a laugh. "Works a fuckin' treat."

"Ugh, I was _home_ yesterday!"

"Course you was, you ain't left since ya got here. The fun ain't about to stop just cause you're sleepin' in the guest room."

+++

" _Fuuuuuuuuck_ ," Vriska groaned when she woke up to what felt like the entire left side of her body throbbing. 

Despite the fact that her bed had been pushed up against the wall, and the wall had been covered by a double layer of pillows, she still sometimes found a way to turn over too far in her sleep. She reached for her phone to check the time - just after midnight - then adjusted the straps of her sling to redistribute some of the pressure across her right shoulder. 

She was starving; she'd fallen asleep as soon as they got home. 

The TV was still on when she walked out into the hallway, unsteady on her feet. She heard a sudden yelp just before she stepped out into the living room, followed by a loud thud and an uncontrollable laugh that she knew all too well. 

Aranea was up on her feet by the time Vriska entered the room, but not for long. She shrieked and burst out laughing again when Meenah dragged her back onto the couch by the waist, despite having made brief eye contact with her younger sister. 

Vriska just stood impatiently on the opposite side of the coffee table, waiting to see how far Aranea would let the situation go before she spoke up. Apparently, it was a lot further than she thought because she was able to take a few good swigs from the open bottle of Jim Beam and slam it back down onto the table before Aranea even made an attempt to swat Meenah's hand out from under her skirt. 

"Why are you awake?" Aranea asked, her glasses askew as she tried to reposition herself on Meenah's lap. 

"Because I'm out of Percocet."

"Ouch. Do you want a cookie to help take the edge off?" 

"No. I had some this afternoon." 

"Are you going back to sleep?" 

"Probably. I'm fucking hungry," Vriska said. 

She was definitely going to try and get back to sleep; she took another few mouthfuls from the bottle to help her along before turning towards the kitchen.

"We got some, um," Aranea trailed off, waving a hand as she continued in Spanish.

"I'm not that hungry," Vriska scowled. She grabbed a bowl of leftover rice and beans from the fridge, but traded them for an already diced guava so she wouldn't have to wait for the microwave.

"Are you okay? It's late, right? About midnight?" Aranea asked. She was leaning back against Meenah's chest by then, trying to look more put together than she really was between the cookies, the liquor, and Meenah's hand impatiently hovering right on her hemline. "How's your arm feeling?"

"It feels like it was crushed in a car wreck and reconstructed on the taxpayer's dollar," Vriska replied. With only one hand available to work with, she had to put the container of fruit down to take another drink from the Jim Beam bottle. "You think you can wait until I close the door to pick up where you left off?" 

"Nope," Meenah grinned, her hand creeping back up Aranea's thigh. "Told ya before, Friday nights are for getting fucked up in all senses a' the word." 

"How fucking _suburban_ of you." 

"Am-scray, baby Serk."

"Give me a minute, _jeez_!" Vriska exclaimed, swapping the bottle for her guava again. 

Right before she swung the door to her room closed, she heard her sister give in to yet another fit of laughter. 

It took more effort than it should have, but Vriska managed to get her headphones in with just one hand. 

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] at 12:14 --

AG: Why are you still awake?  
AA: because its only midnight silly!  
AG: Riiiiiiiight, you live a semi-nocturnal life now, don't you?  
AA: something like that  
AA: why are you awake then?  
AG: You don't want to know.  
AA: dont i????????  
AG: No, no you don't.  
AA: i cant find an eyebrow waggle emoji  
AG: 8luh. Let's just say I've got the music 8lasting for a reason.   
AA: ohhhhhhh ;) ;)  
AG: Here's the weekly upd8 you can pass on for me: I'm out of hard drugs, my joints feel like they're on fire, and I still want to low-key impale myself through the chest 8ecause the worst part of all this 8ullshit is that I'm stuck in fucking Florida. Again.  
AA: thats not overdramatic at all  
AG: Don't get me started, Megido. I have all the worst luck. All of it.   
AA: you survived a car crash that should have killed you  
AG: Exactly. Siiiiiiiigh. So what are you doing at midnight that's so fascinating?  
AA: testing a theory  
AG: The theory of what?  
AA: how long i can go without a shirt before sollux says anything  
AG: And how long has it 8een?  
AA: three days  
AG: That guy is something else.  
AA: yes he is  
AG: Soooooooo. How's everyone else?  
AA: terezi is okay  
AA: she stayed here a few days longer than she originally planned because of the blizzard  
AA: shes worried about you and she misses you but shes okay   
AA: you should call her more  
AG: Don't tell me what to do.  
AA: and john  
AA: well  
AA: he kind of had a meltdown last week but hes okay now :)  
AG: W8 what? What do you mean he had a meltdown????????  
AA: i dont know  
AA: i heard it from dave and he heard it from jade who was there  
AA: he just kind of shut down for a few days  
AA: but hes okay :)  
AG: Thanks, Aradia. Thanks a lot!!!!!!!!

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] at 12:28 --   
\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering gallowsCalibrator [GC] at 12:28 --

AG: I miss you too, nerd.   
AG: I'll call you when I feel like I can apologise and make it sound at least kind of genuine.

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering gallowsCalibrator [GC] at 12:29 --

Vriska sighed and put her phone down on her chest. It was hard to get comfortable again and she had to move each of her pillows at least once to find a position that worked for her arm. She picked up her phone again, struggling to decide if she should send one last message for the night; timezones were in her favour. Eventually she just tossed her phone onto the bed beside her and closed her eyes. 

Her goal was to get out of Florida before the spring was over. April was a good target. There was enough time for her to finish recovering from the accident and the surgery which had followed; her pins would be out by then and she would eventually have to get on with her life anyway. April seemed like a good month to shoot for. April sounded good. 

Her only plan was to get back to Seattle. 

When one of Vriska's earbuds fell out, she heard a laugh followed by a string of cursing in both English and Spanish from the other side of the wall. 

At least Meenah and Aranea had moved from the couch. 

Vriska shoved the headphone back into place as fast as she could manage and turned the volume up a notch, just for good measure. 

Back to Seattle. Back to the life she had carved for herself there, because no matter how crummy her apartment was and how little progress she was making in general, it was a life she had created on her own terms. 

Her life in Seattle was hers, and hers alone.


	4. [A6.2A3]: yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which their are events and vacations and surprises galore.

**March, 2016**

"Question."

"So I bought the pasta salad at Wholefoods, sue me."

"No, I knew that."

"How?"

"It tastes like what I imagine licking the inside of the fridge would taste like." 

"Why you would I don't know, but go on." 

Jake held up a finger to put the conversation on hold until he finished chewing his current mouthful. 

"Just an observation, and I could be a long bloody way from the mark here, but have you noticed that you've been rather reclusive the last few weeks? More so than usual, I mean," he said. 

Dirk just frowned in response before looking down at his plate to cut off another piece of steak. 

"No I haven't." 

"You sort of have."

"I went to Wholefoods this morning," Dirk pointed out. 

"And you bought the fridge salad, yes, I know," Jake said. "I mean just in general."

"Examples?" 

"Well the biggest one is that you're completely denying it now." 

There wasn't much that Dirk Strider hated more than being called out on something he was specifically trying to avoid being called out on.

Jake had been letting things slide. It wasn't that he was bothered by Dirk falling asleep upstairs, or that he'd been driving himself to work more often than not. The problem was that the longer he let Dirk get away with the small things, the sooner Dirk would end up retreating so far into his own world that the outside would be abandoned entirely. The first few nights that Jake had gone to bed alone were actually nice - they were a chance for him to recover from a long day at work, surrounded by people, and to prepare for his next shift without even having to make conversation.

Dirk's schedule had become near impossible to predict. Some nights he would sleep on the couch in the attic, but others he would eventually crawl in beside Jake at two, three, or even four in the morning. Small boxes had been piling up beside the recycling as things he ordered online began to arrive, bit by bit. 

"What if I said it was less being reclusive and more being preoccupied?" Dirk suggested. 

Jake watched him suspiciously as he took a slightly too long drink of water. 

"Out with it, Strider. What contraption-ating have you been up to?" 

"Nothing."

"Because that makes it less suspicious." 

"Okay, so what if I told you I bought a Vive and I've been trying to modify it to run independently of a host computer or to in any way be wired or reliant on an outside source?" Dirk asked. He cocked an eyebrow from across the dinner table in a way only someone as self-satisfied as he was could get away with. 

"Have you succeeded?" 

"Almost. I mean, it's not exactly practical yet because some of the sensors go in and out way too much, and I haven't figured out how to do exactly what I want to do with it because I don't think the tech exists on a consumer level yet, but I'm working on it," he explained. 

"That's swell, but the fact remains you're bored enough that expending a tremendous amount of energy and effort on something that might not even be possible has become a legitimate way to spend your time," Jake said. "And I'm mildly alarmed. Only mildly, mind you, but alarmed nonetheless." 

"It's gonna be fuckin' sweet when I'm done," Dirk said. 

"Which will be when exactly?" 

"When it's done."

"Dirk."

"Jake?"

"Book us a trip. Next week. Somewhere out of state, and you're leaving your little project behind because you are _not_ skipping the mid-life crisis and going straight to the crotchety old recluse stage on me," Jake said. 

"You want to book a last minute out of state trip?" Dirk asked incredulously. 

"What I want is to get you out of the house for a few days."

"Next week."

"Yes. I can take the week off," Jake said. "It shouldn't be a problem, I've got enough people to cover for me." 

"How far out of state?"

"Far enough. Nothing ridiculous, of course, but in saying that I do realise options might be somewhat limited on such short notice." 

"Huh," Dirk thought aloud. "I'll be back."

Jake watched, eyebrows furrowed, as Dirk stacked his plate and cutlery in the dishwasher before he disappeared out into the hallway.

Fifteen minutes passed and there was still no sign of Dirk returning to the kitchen. 

"You know," he said as he set about to finish the dishes himself, shaking his head in disbelief at his own stupidity. "I really should have seen this coming."

+++

When she stepped out of the bathroom, fighting with the backing of her left earring, Roxy stood in awe of the man who turned around to witness her grand entrance. She would have argued that the entrance was far, far below grand but the look on his face said otherwise. 

Her hair was done, each curl held in place by what was probably more hairspray than it really needed but she didn't want to risk it coming loose. Every aspect of her makeup was complete, from the dusting of shadow on her lids to the perfectly lined colour on her lips. Her dress, a deep purple floor-length number worthy of an Oscars red carpet, pooled around her feet. 

She finally felt the earring clip into place. 

"Have you seen my shoes?" Roxy asked. 

It felt like a trivial question but she didn't know what else to say, not after she realised just how intently he was staring back at her. 

"By the foot of the bed," he replied. 

His gaze lingered before he turned back to the mirror to finish combing his hair. 

When she had first asked him to accompany her to an event, she had deliberately left out a few details. Of course, he'd said yes immediately without even asking questions. She'd known he would. In the weeks that followed she had revealed a little more about the event each time it had come up in conversation. It was a launch party. No, not a book launch. A launch. You know, for the Mars Orbiter set to go up in two weeks. Hosted by the European Space Agency. It is most definitely black tie. A lovely venue near their headquarters. Yes, in Paris. 

She'd thought the last detail would get the biggest reaction. Instead, he'd just raised a thoughtful eyebrow as he sipped his coffee and mentioned that there was a French phrasebook in the study somewhere. 

Roxy had only just slipped her shoes on when the room phone rang. She stood up to take the call from reception, thanked them, and turned around to pick up the last few things she needed. Standing beside him to share the full-length mirror space, Roxy examined everything once more before deciding she was ready. 

"Wait," he said as she went to step away. With a hand under her chin, carefully placed to avoid disturbing her makeup, he moved in and kissed her gently. "You look beautiful." 

"Oh please," Roxy said as she reached up to wipe away the small stain her lipstick had left on his mouth. "You're like Don Draper without all the womanising or the mysterious backstory." 

"A highly flattering compliment," he replied, shrugging the blazer of his suit into place and adjusting his tie to sit just right. "But that doesn't mean my assessment of you was incorrect." 

"The car's here," she said. 

"You certainly are a special guest tonight, aren't you?" 

"Hardly. I didn't have much to do with this project at all, just some of the math on the back end." 

"Which contributed to the possibility of the mission."

"Again, hardly," she said as she picked up her gloves and clutch. "Shall we?"

As Roxy took a moment to scan her reflection one last time, he crossed the room and held the door open for her. 

He did the same once they were downstairs to exit the hotel, then again to get into the car. 

It wasn't a long trip even in the evening Parisian rush hour. Their hotel was close to the Agency, right by the event, and within easy view of some of the most famous sights the city had to offer. It was raining as they were driven through the narrow streets, not heavily but enough to cause a brief traffic jam. 

Roxy put her gloves on just before the trip was over, working the fabric up over her elbows and into place for when they arrived. She had explained what would happen once the car stopped, that it would be hectic and like nothing he had experienced before, but he just took her hand and smiled. 

The car came to a halt, and she took a deep breath. 

"Ready?" Roxy asked. 

"When you are," he said. 

She nodded. 

There were cameras on them before she was even entirely out of the car. His arm wrapped around her waist as they posed for the initial arrivals shots and waited for a little room to clear out up ahead. She didn't want to be out front of the event for too long, but she was there to do a job; she was part of the team. They'd suggested that she talk to at least three reporters, a mix of those from popular and scientific magazines to ensure their bases were all covered. 

"Who are you here with tonight?"

Roxy turned her head when a nearby reporter spoke up. 

She only just managed not to scowl when the microphone was set up in front of him, rather than her. Instead, she just smiled. 

"This is Monsieur Egbert," she said. "Roxy Lalonde, physicist currently on loan to CERN." 

"Oh, of course!"

"I get that it's an easy mistake to make because of the stranglehold that males have on STEM in general, but seriously, he is _obviously_ the arm candy in this situation," she said with a laugh. "Look at him! But anyway, what was the question?"

The entire time Roxy was busy talking to reporters and posing for photos he stood beside her with an arm comfortably around her waist. Occasionally, he responded to a question about his outfit - his good suit jazzed up with new shoes and a ridiculously overpriced tie that perfectly matched her dress - or about why he was there. His answers were all perfectly diplomatic and gave enough information for the reporters to move on without it feeling as though he'd revealed too much. 

They were almost inside when they were stopped once more for a final red carpet photo. 

"Oh, wait," Roxy said, opening her clutch. "Can you take one for me? I wanna show my babies," she explained, handing over her phone to the photographer. "They're all gonna flip the fuck out."

+++

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 13:34 --

TG: and the oscar for hottest mom ever goes to  
TG: wait fuck that sounds so wrong  
TG: fuck you know what i mean  
TG: thx bby i no wat u mean but yea work on ur phrasing  
TG: btw did you see the MAD HOT date i got????? what a smokin babe amirite?? ;) ;) ;)  
TG: gross  
TG: tell johns dad i said hi though  
TG: he says hi! whatcha up to bby?  
TG: \-- turntechGodhead [TG] added 20160304086.jpg to the conversation! --  
TG: got my good shoes on check it  
TG: holes in the sides  
TG: see that tear on the right one  
TG: high fucking fashion  
TG: nice try bby but i think momma wins this one  
TG: mine r COUTURE  
TG: um excuse me these are by chuck taylor  
TG: everyones heard of him  
TG: nice try but mine are worth 20 pairs of urs :O  
TG: um excuse me again mom but these are the 70s vintage style model  
TG: know your shit  
TG: okay but mine r still worth 12 of urs  
TG: why are you trying to impress me with your 1200 buck shoes  
TG: literally grew up up your house  
TG: damn lalonde your mom is loaded right   
TG: hell yeah she is have you seen our wizard shrine like cmon mom new info please  
TG: \-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] added 20160304009.jpg to the conversation! --  
TG: would u pls APPRECIATE just how SMOKIN HOT my date is???  
TG: im not saying that  
TG: davey  
TG: im not saying johns dad is hot  
TG: hahah u said u werent gonna say it but to not say it u had to say what u werent gonna say!  
TG: …………  
TG: so me and karkat and sollux and aradia are going to the indoor skatepark  
TG: im gonna teach karkat how to ride  
TG: sollux is coming to watch him faceplant  
TG: and aradias coming because shes like his keeper or something i dunno  
TG: okay but im at a fancy fancy event with a sexy sexy date and 1200 dollar shoes so i win  
TG: sorry mom i didnt realise this was a competition  
TG: its always a competition davey u no that  
TG: better go!!!  
TG: luv u :*  
TG: did you annoy john with this shit too  
TG: mom

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased being pestered by turntechGodhead [TG] at 13:47 --

"Your mom's fucking weird," Sollux said.

"Tell me about it," Dave said, rolling his eyes as he put his phone away. 

His mom was weird, he knew that. But when his phone had beeped and he'd first seen the photo of her on the red carpet, John's dad by her side as they both smiled widely for the camera, he'd felt a rush of happiness for her. 

"She looks super pretty," Aradia said with a smile. "Where is she?"

"Some event in Paris, I dunno. She took John's dad and they're living the high life. Kind of the opposite of how Karkat's gonna feel when he falls flat on his ass."

It had taken the combined coordination of all three of his friends to get him out of his dorm. He was still working furiously on his school work and commissions, driven by the underlying desire to succeed where his sister had failed. They were all keeping a close eye on him though, making sure he slept at least as much as Sollux did and ate a solid meal every day in addition to whatever he bought from vending machines. 

They had two skateboards between them; his, and Mituna's. It had been a while since he'd done more than just use his board to get to Starbucks faster, but he was sure it would all come back. 

Dave put his contacts in in the bathroom when they arrived; they didn't exactly help with the fluorescent lights, but they were pretty good at preventing kids from staring. 

He made a few laps of the center while the others just sat down out of the way. He was a little unsteady on his feet at first, as if his balance was all wrong - it probably was, he realised. He was still down about six pounds since the beginning of the semester. He hadn't noticed the difference when he was just heading down the street, but it explained why he needed to put more effort into his ollies. 

"So who's next, losers?" Dave asked, as he came to a sudden stop in front of his friends.

"Thought we were only here to see KK faceplant," Sollux said, without looking up from his phone. 

"I thought that was just the bullshit we came up with to get him outside!" Karkat shouted.

"It got Sollux outside," Aradia piped up. "He saw the sun today!"

"Rude."

"But true," she insisted. "Go on, Karkat! It's why we came!"

"Here," Dave said, kicking Mituna's helmet towards Karkat. "Hurry up." 

He did another lap of the floor while he waited for Karkat to clip the helmet on and complain again to Sollux, just in case he hadn't heard the first time. 

He almost tripped over his own feet when he misjudged his kickflip, but managed to save it before he hit the floor. 

"Okay so first thing is to stop looking like a major pussy, because we're indoors so you don't even have to worry about gravel rash, and two, you're like three feet tall so you're built for balance," Dave said, walking his board back and forth while Karkat just scowled and tried to balance. 

"Shut the fuck up and just tell me what to do," Karkat said. 

It was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be to teach someone how skateboarding worked. Karkat was only going along with the whole thing to fulfill his part in Operation: Get Dave the Fuck Out of His Fucking Bedroom. 

Every time he stepped off the board, Dave had to sit down on his own and manually shift Karkat's feet back into the right position over the trucks. Mituna's board was just as worn out as Dave's from years of rough treatment, but the bushings were harder; he reluctantly forced Karkat into swapping boards because his own was easier to turn. 

He tried explaining how that worked and why he'd needed the softer bushings back home upstate, but Karkat just flipped him off and stepped back onto Dave's board. 

Immediately, he overbalanced and almost fell when the deck tilted a lot further than he'd been expecting.

Dave grinned when he saw the disappointed look on Sollux's face; there was no way they were leaving before Karkat ate shit. 

He'd only been joking earlier, but it turned out that Karkat's lower centre of gravity was working in his favour. He only fell over twice: the first time when Dave deliberately cut in front of him, and the second when he sped up and pulled a one-eighty as a staged distraction.

The novelty wore off not long after that. 

"So are you guys coming over?" Aradia asked as the subway approached Dave's stop. "We downloaded a bunch of movies this morning and only got a warning from the FBI!" 

"Uh," Karkat said. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Sure," Dave shrugged. 

"Fucking _excuse me_?"

"Hey, you assholes are the ones that want me out doing shit. I say yes to doing shit and you get all _hey what the fuck_ at me?" 

"Ooh, we've got some uppers you can try if you're too tired," Aradia said. "Wait, no, we're trying to get you to sleep more and _Sollux_ to sleep less this week, right? You guys are so hard to keep up with."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Karkat muttered to himself. 

Dave just grinned.

+++

"I am so, so proud of you." 

"Hm? Oh, honey, no, I told you, I didn't have that much to do with the project at all," Roxy said from her place on the couch. 

She tried not to blush like a teenager when he leant over to casually kiss her as he walked by. 

"Your name was on the program, that's more than enough for me," he said, sitting down next to her with the room service menu. "Now, I'm not one for all those fancy appetisers that fool no one when it comes to them being considered a meal. What would you like?" 

"Oh God, I'd _kill_ for some fries. Just a huge bowl of fries and a Sprite," she said as she worked her feet out of her shoes. "What about you?" 

"I was feeling partial towards a nice steak, but they all seem to be around forty Euros."

"It's all covered by the company, remember?"

"Yes, but it does feel excessive."

"Honey, if you want a steak you order a steak. And a drink, whatever you like because I'm absolutely fine," Roxy said, patting his knee. "I promise."

While he was on the phone to reception, she stood back up and went into the bedroom to change out of her gown. She had mastered the transition between work-function Roxy and pyjama-clad Roxy years ago; it took all of about five seconds to peel off her thigh high stockings and replace them with the fuzzy cat paw print pyjama pants Dave had sent her last Mother's Day. She lay her dress down on one of the armchairs and threw on an old Destiny's Child t-shirt instead, then quickly scrubbed the thick layer of makeup off her face. She shook out her hair and ran her fingers through the curls to remove the dry, crunchy feeling from half a can of hairspray, tying it up as best she could while she walked back out into the suite's living room. 

"Still beautiful," he said, tugging his tie loose as he stood up from the couch.

He'd been waiting for her to finish changing first instead of just walking in. 

"Hey, you're welcome to leave that on if you want," she said, calling after him as he disappeared into the bedroom. "On or off, I don't care!"

"Surely this is a better look?" 

When he reemerged in a pair of _Dragon Ball Z_ print pyjama pants, Roxy failed to stifle a loud, echoing laugh. 

"John's doing?"

"Of course. Father's Day." 

"They're gorgeous," she said, still smiling. 

Their room service arrived not long after that; she couldn't help sending a photo of him answering the door in just the pyjama pants to all the kids. 

The replies came quickly. 

GT: haha i can't believe dad packed those!   
TT: Charming.   
GG: ive seen gorillas with less chest hair than papa!!! :O   
TG: mom this is exactly why i wont add you on snapchat

They had three days to themselves before their flight home, so when she started yawning he switched off the TV and ushered her into bed. Despite the fact it was after one in the morning, she didn't want to fall asleep, not yet. She was so warm and comfortable with him pressed up against her back and his arms around her, so happy, that there was no way she was going to let herself doze off. 

"Remember when we first arrived," he said quietly. "And I told you this was all far too much?"

"Mmm."

"I take it back," he said with a gentle laugh. "That was an exhausting event and this is quite probably the most comfortable place I've ever slept." 

"You're sweet, honey," she said, shifting one of his hands so she could kiss his knuckles. 

"The last time I stayed somewhere remotely comparable to this was six weeks before John was born." 

"Tell me about it," she said, closing her eyes. "Unless you don't want to?"

"No, it's fine. A very old wound now healed through time," he said, kissing her behind the ear. "We knew when John was due, of course. But towards the end of her pregnancy it was almost as if he was quite literally taking her breath away. She was just exhausted all the time, more than what was normal. Her doctor put her on bedrest so we drove to Vancouver and stayed for a week. It was nothing special, just a wonderful room with a view and breakfast in bed every morning, but it was the last break we knew we'd get for a long while." 

"That sounds lovely," she said quietly, stroking his knuckles with her thumb while he spoke. 

"We were lucky we did," he said with a quiet laugh. "His lungs were certainly well developed. He kept us up for weeks, screaming and screaming even when he had everything he needed. I think it took him almost eight months to settle." 

"Rosie was the opposite," Roxy said. "She liked to play dead. Quiet as anything, it was astounding. Of course she cried, but it was like she knew I needed to recover. She could almost read my mind. She slept when I slept, she was an easy baby. I was so grateful for that, it made being on my own just a little more tolerable. I mean, that didn't exactly last but it made the newborn stage a lot easier."

"Did I ever tell you it took me until John was four to realise he needed glasses?" 

"No," she laughed gently. "The poor boy."

"It explained quite a bit when the optometrist told me just how bad his sight was."

"Like why he was always walking into things?"

"I just thought he was clumsy," he said, joining in with her laughter. "He did stop walking into doorframes as often after that." 

"We had something similar with Dave," Roxy said softly, entwining her fingers with his as she spoke. "He was already three and half when we got him and I still remember the look on Dirk's face when the pediatrician told him they had no idea what was wrong with his eyes." 

"No wonder."

"I think that was when it hit home for Dirk, you know? There was nothing he could have done differently until then but he felt so much responsibility for this kid who'd been through so much already. He was different to Rosie, so different. He's like glue. We used to pick him up and we couldn't put him back down for hours, or until he fell asleep. He'll be twenty this year and he's still exactly the same, he just has this inherent need to know that there's someone nearby." 

He kissed her neck again then pulled away and stood up from the bed. When she turned over to see what he was doing, he assured her that he just needed to use the bathroom and would only be a moment. She nodded and closed her eyes again, just waiting for him to come back. 

She heard the toilet flush and the sounds of him rifling through his suitcase before he finally sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

"Do you think you can wait another few minutes before you go to sleep?"

"Hmm? I'm just resting my eyes," Roxy said, opening them just as she yawned. "See?"

"John's twenty in just over a month," he said. "And for nineteen of those years, I've been a widowed, single father, in the most technical sense of the word. Now, I know we've talked about this so many times before and seem to have just accepted our state of being. But right now, we're here in a place I never thought I'd see and unless you've changed your mind, I'd really like for us to make this engagement official."

Roxy pushed herself up until she was sitting beside him, eyes darting back and forth across this face to try and work out his exact expression. 

When she reached out for his hand, he looked down, and her line of sight followed. 

Lying in his open palm was a ring. 

"You mean all this time," she said, trying so hard not to start crying that a laugh slipped out instead. "I've been lying about having an official fiancé for all these years?" 

"I just don't want you to have to lie anymore," he said, a smile on his own face as she wiped the tears away. "It has to be exhausting work."

"Yes," Roxy said, laughing again as she moved to kiss him. "Of course, yes, oh, honey you didn't have to ask like this," she said, with her arms wound tightly around him. 

"I think it would have been poor form on my part to _not_ take this opportunity," he said. "A wasted moment, as it were." 

"It wouldn't have been wasted," she said quietly, watching as he slipped the ring into place on her left hand.

"Would you like a tissue?" 

"No," Roxy said. She wiped her eyes once more and smiled, brightly, happiness filling a void she hadn't even realised still existed deep within her chest. "But I would like to kiss you again and again until we have to go home." 

"That," he said, leaning in to kiss her and following her lead as she lay back down on the pillows. "That sounds like a very good idea to me."

+++

"This was a fucking terrible idea." 

"Well you've only got yourself to blame for it, mate."

Dirk set his beer down a little too roughly on the bar when Jake pointed out what he already knew. 

He'd been told to book a trip, so he had. He'd assumed that once he told Jake they were booked for the first two of six nights at a resort in Waikiki, Jake would plan the rest of the week. There wasn't a whole lot of logic behind the choice of location, just that it was probably the most obnoxious out of state option he could have taken. 

It was the first time Dirk had managed to convince himself planning out a detailed itinerary in advance was unnecessary, and he felt the old familiar tug of self-hatred and regret over doubting his instincts. 

He'd suggested the only thing that made sense - heading straight to the resort bar. 

"Don't look, but there's a group of teenage girls staring right at your ass," Dirk said under his breath.

Jake had insisted on standing; he was hunched over in the space between Dirk and the next chair over, with his elbows leaning on the bar while he drank. 

"And if you were sitting where they are?" Jake asked, raising his glass to take another mouthful. 

"Now, or when I was their age?"

"Would that really change the answer?"

"Fuck no," Dirk said and picked up his own drink again. "But I would've been a hell of a lot smoother about it."

"Bollocks, I know you well enough now to know exactly what you were like back then," Jake said. "Try me, go on." 

"Be my guest."

"You were crass, obviously," Jake started. 

"Obviously," Dirk interrupted.

"Shut up and let me finish, Strider," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Crass. Impatient. I'll bet you thought you knew everything."

"Because I did."

"And because you _thought_ you knew everything, you were entirely insufferable." 

"Hey, I had one friend," Dirk insisted. 

"Who was just as crass and arrogant as you," Jake finished. He took a few mouthfuls of his beer before he set the glass down on the bar again. "Correct?" 

"Yeah, but I think entirely insufferable is still understating it somehow," Dirk said with a shrug. "Holy shit, they're actually heading over here, what the fuck?"

"Should I apologise for having such an attractive behind?"

" _Never_ apologise for that ass." 

"Oh, stop it."

"What can I say? I'm an ass man."

"No, you're just an ass." 

"Real funny," Dirk said. "What can we do for you?" 

There was no way he was about to put up with a couple of clearly teenage girls hovering around for the next half hour, so he called them out as soon as they sat down in the two chairs to Jake's right. 

They started giggling when he spoke to them.

"Buy us a drink?" 

"Terribly sorry, ladies, but we're married," Jake said, taking another drink of his beer. 

"What, both of you?"

Kids are fucking idiots, Dirk thought as he struggled not to roll his eyes. Then again, he thought, draining the last mouthful of his beer. If they were really that stupid, they were going to be some easy entertainment. 

"Yeah," he said. "Definitely both married." 

"Huh," said one of the girls, looking around the semi-crowded bar. "Where are your wives?"

"The spa," he said, shaking his head. "They're old sorority sisters," he added. "You know what they can be like, right?"

Jake snorted into his pint. 

"So they'll be busy for a while, right?"

Dirk had never realised there was a level of stupidity where fucking with someone stopped being fun.

"Okay, so how old are you?" Dirk asked. If they weren't going to provide some light-hearted entertainment, then he was just going to put an end to it all.

"I'm twenty-one, she's twenty-two," the girl sitting closest to Jake said, obviously lying.

"Yeah, well my kid'll be twenty this year." 

"Oh my God, will he really?" Jake asked incredulously. "Well bugger me, that's gone quicksticks." 

"Oh, cool, is that an accent? Where are you from?"

"San Diego," Jake replied flippantly. "Are you serious, twenty? I can't believe that, I thought it was nineteen."

"What? No, he's nineteen now," Dirk said. "We had a cake for him. I mean, sure, I don't remember much of that night because I think I'm still hungover from it, but we had a cake for him."

The girls were still sitting at the bar, glancing over at them both and laughing between themselves. 

"So, how about those drinks?" 

"I just told you my kid is nineteen, how old do you think I am?"

"I dunno," one of the girls said. "Like, thirty something?"

"Okay, sure," Dirk said, holding up a hand to get the attention of the woman behind the bar. "Can we get another two beers, give me a double whiskey, and whatever they want," he said as he gestured towards the two girls. He handed over a fifty from his wallet. "Thanks, keep the change." 

"Are you serious?" Jake asked, looking at Dirk as if he'd gone mad. 

"Don't even think about telling the wife," he said; the girls giggled. "Are you two hanging out here?"

"Yeah, we can stay."

"Great," Dirk picked up his beer in one hand and the whiskey in the other, spinning his stool around as he nodded his head towards an empty table across the bar. "Sorry, but we're married guys, we can't get busted buying drinks for a couple of hot ass girls." 

He slid his beer onto the table and sat down in one of the chairs, then knocked back a mouthful of whiskey as Jake sat opposite him. 

"What was all that?" Jake asked as he adjusted his chair on the opposite side of the table.

"They wanted to fuck us, Jake."

"Well I gathered that much for myself. What about all the other nonsense?" 

"Kids are easy to mess around with," he shrugged, swapping his drinks over. "That was a pretty pathetic story but there's no way they're anything _near_ twenty-one, and I kind of just wanted to buy them new t-shirts instead." 

"Hmm? Oh, those bathing suits weren't a problem as far as I'm concerned," Jake said as he slouched down a little in his chair. 

"Those are nineteen year old tits, Jake. At most."

"Shame."

"There'll be more," Dirk said with a grin, shaking his head. "Thirty-something, I wish."

"Because you were still relevant when you were thirty-something?"

"Okay, ouch, but as if you can talk after you dragged me into the shower last week to show me your gray pu - "

"Okay, okay," Jake said with a frown. "Let's not revisit that."

"Face it, you're as old as I am, buddy."

Dirk picked his beer up again and drank it slowly, hyper aware of just how many people in the bar kept glancing their way. Over the course of half an hour and a third beer each, they witnessed three other small groups of young girls staring at them. He just rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the looks; he was used to being recognised, but not stared at for no reason. 

He started to get suspicious when the same girl walked past twice, her gaze lingering a little too long for comfort. On her third pass, she smiled at Jake who returned the expression out of innate politeness. 

When she hesitated on her fourth trip past their table, then stopped by the empty chair between them, Dirk shook his head. 

"Okay, I'll make you a deal," he said, before the girl could even say anything. "I'll give you a hundred bucks right now if you just walk away without hitting on my husband."

"Really?" 

"Take it," Dirk said, holding out the hundred dollar bill between his middle and index fingers. "But you don't so much as blink in his direction again or I'll make sure the staff know you're only eighteen."

The girl seemed suspicious as she plucked the note from his hand. She frowned, then examined the bill, but seemed satisfied enough that it was genuine.

"Why a hundred?" The girl asked, her eyes darting between the two of them before pausing on Jake, who just shrugged.

"Because that's what I was carrying, and God damn, which part of _don't even think about hitting on my husband_ didn't you understand?" Dirk asked, his tone rapidly taking on a sharp edge. "Beat it. And pass the message on to your friends over there," he added, waving a hand towards one of the crowded tables across the bar. 

"Hey, relax would you? It's all harmless fun," Jake said. "You were their age once."

"Yeah, and I know what was going through my," Dirk paused. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, Jake, I think I fucked up."

"By paying a literal child to stop looking at you?"

"What? No, that was justified," he said dismissively. 

"You know, I really am a little unsure how to take that whole situation."

"What? No, seriously, I think I might have fucked up in a huge fucking way."

"What do you mean?" Jake asked, his expression suddenly concerned. 

Dirk drained the remaining half pint of beer in as few mouthfuls as possible, then did the same with his whiskey.

"I think it's Spring fucking Break."

+++

If she had been anyone else, there was no way she would have believed that the FBI were calling her. 

Sollux had been released in early January after two months in custody. He'd been moved between Rikers, a series of offices in Manhattan, and D.C. for those eight weeks for supervision and questioning. As always, he wasn't really allowed to talk about much, but he could tell her that he'd helped track down the guy who was copying his code. They'd sent him home not long after that, with an updated set of conditions. 

Aradia had just made it back to her dorm after her first class when they called. Sollux wasn't allowed to live on his own until further notice. He could be left unattended, but couldn't be the only person residing permanently at his address. Even if Mituna had still been in New York instead of living on base with their father, where he'd been sent after Sollux's pseudo-arrest, he wasn't capable of the responsibility. 

She'd made the joke that if he wanted her to move in that badly, he could have just asked instead of getting the FBI involved. 

At least they'd covered her moving costs and organised a housing refund on her student loans.

Although she'd worried about him at first, that having her around more than usual would disrupt his routine, things were going well enough. 

"Ooh, look at this! What do you think?" Aradia asked, tilting her head to look around the tower she'd constructed on the kitchen counter. 

"If your tits are out again, AA, I swear," he said as he fought to wrestle the coffee pot free. 

"I'm in the kitchen, that's just unsanitary," she said.

"If you're on that side of the counter, you're in the living room," Sollux corrected her. He poured out two mugs of hot coffee and returned the pot to the machine. 

"Okay," she frowned. "But check it out! It's the leaning tower of psychotropic drugs!"

"Why?" 

"Because we can leave them out without Mituna downing them a bottle at a time now!"

"You know I lock them up so I can't do that, right?" Sollux pointed out, leaning across the counter and sliding one of the mugs to her. 

"But I made a tower, Sollux!"

"I like your tower, AA," he said quietly. 

"You know it's three o'clock in the morning, don't you?" Aradia asked. She watched him closely as he blew on his coffee, waiting impatiently for it to cool enough to drink. 

"Yeah. I'm staying up."

"Are you annoyed by the tower?" 

"No. But I'm worried it'll fall over, the pills will scatter, I'll forget to take them, and then I'll have to blow my brains out because it'll seem like the best idea I've ever had," Sollux said. 

Aradia nodded then unstacked the pill bottles and arranged them alphabetically instead. She lined them up along the living room edge of the counter, one after the other, but went back and took out one bottle from near the end of the line before she walked around into the kitchen. 

"Come on," she said, holding out her empty hand.

She had to wait for him to think it over. Eventually, he put his coffee down and took her hand, letting her guide him through to the hallway and into his bedroom. 

"I'm staying up," he said, more insistently than before. 

She let him go when he started to pull away. He sat down on his swivel chair and reached for his mouse to wake his computer up. 

"Okay," Aradia agreed. When Sollux spun around to face his monitors, she leant over him and put the bottle of sleeping pills down on the edge of his desk. "Think about it though," she said with her chin resting on his shoulder. 

"I will." 

"That sounds totally fake, but okay." 

Aradia kissed his shoulder and stood up again, then peeled off her clothes and fell face-first into his bed. She loved him, but he was exhausting. 

She was indulging him, she knew that. They had a week off classes, not that he went to his more than he absolutely had to, and it was going to be near impossible to get him back into anything resembling a routine. 

She closed her eyes when he started typing, the sounds of his mechanical keyboard as loud but comforting as ever; if she could hear him typing, she knew where he was. 

"Hey," Sollux said. 

Aradia turned her head slowly; she'd definitely been asleep. 

"Hi," she said quietly. 

The room was dark. His monitors were off and she could feel him tentatively running his fingers lightly along her bare spine. She shuffled closer and wrapped her arms around him, working her head up under his chin.

"It's only been twenty minutes," he said. "I took two temazepam." 

"That's not good," she yawned. "But if we sleep forever, maybe we can stop getting older and live long enough to see the end of the world." 

"How do you think it happens?" Sollux asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," Aradia said sleepily. "I think it'll be something that happens in space. A star will explode, or collapse, and that'll be the end of everything. Then it's only a matter of time before everything is pulled in and crushed back into antimatter."

"We won't live to see that."

"Maybe we will if we sleep forever."

"That's impossible. We'll be long dead by the time it comes to black holes," Sollux said.

"I'd like to see it."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed. "We'll sleep forever then watch the universe fall apart, together."

"I like that plan," Aradia said. 

She snuggled up even closer to him than before, and smiled.

+++

"Well there you go, mate," Jake said as he sat back against a large boulder, a little out of breath. "That was a hike, that there is a hell of an open volcano, and we are at least the six miles we just walked away from the nearest Spring Breaker." 

He unscrewed the cap from his water and drank half the bottle before handing it over to Dirk, who was sitting on the ground beside him. 

"How the fuck did we get to this point?" Dirk asked as Jake shifted to sit down beside him. "Like, the bullshit that's lead up to this exact moment is just a sequence of inane events that all sound okay in theory, but in practice they've just led us to this," he went on, finishing the rest of the water. "Us sitting in the dirt, staring at a volcano, all because I bought a Vive?"

"There was a bit more to it than that, remember," he pointed out. 

There was a lot more it than that, but Dirk had obviously just skipped the mildly concerning parts of the story in favour of making his version of events seem far superior. 

Things hadn't gone the way Jake had expected them to because he'd forgotten that Dirk could be simultaneously over dramatic and petty when he wanted to be; he'd expected a few days back East to visit family when he told Dirk to book a holiday. 

Instead, they'd ended up in the middle of Spring Break and had fled to a more remote area of the Big Island instead of staying near Honolulu for any longer than was necessary. 

"No," Dirk said suddenly. 

"What?"

"No. You're not playing _Lord of the Rings_ and tossing that into the volcano," he said. 

Jake frowned; he hadn't even realised he'd been spinning the ring on his left hand. But now that Dirk had brought it up, it was a pretty cool opportunity that he knew he wouldn't get again, at least not anytime soon.

"Do you ever think about the fact in a world full of elves, and orcs, and all that fantasy nonsense, the final step to destroy the one ring is to throw it into a volcano named, of all things, _Mount Doom_?"

"Jake?"

"Hmm?" Jake said, still distracted by the multiple trains of thought he was trying to follow.

"I know that's just one of your placeholders, but they still go for fifty bucks a pop," Dirk said. "Hey."

When he felt Dirk punch him lightly on the thigh to get his attention, he frowned and tore his gaze away from the caldera. 

"I wasn't really going to throw it in."

"Sure, okay."

"What if it just slips off though?"

"Jake!"

"Alright, alright, no need to lose your head about it."

He frowned. 

There was no real significance to the ring he was wearing. His wedding ring was safe back home in San Diego, stashed in the bedroom lockbox alongside his berettas, where it had been for all but the first three weeks they'd been married. 

It most definitely had not been his fault. Accidents happened and he certainly wasn't the first person to ever have their ring slide off while they were doing dishes. Wedding rings fell down drains all the time. It was just a thing that happened sometimes and not anything he could have prevented. 

Even so, it had taken almost two hours for Dirk to pull apart the garbage disposal, retrieve the ring, and put the unit back together. Jake had explained everything to him while he'd been lying on the kitchen floor, half under the sink, and he'd agreed that it was just something that happened once in a while. But, Dirk had argued, most people didn't almost lose their rings half a dozen times before it finally washed down the drain. 

There was no fault in that logic. 

Still, he'd lost two placeholder rings in three months. 

"Hey," he said, turning his entire body as he looked away from the volcano again. With a hand on each side of Dirk's jaw, he leant in for a gentle, lingering kiss. "Thank you."

"For what?" Dirk asked, taking lead of the second, third, and final kiss before Jake let go of his cheeks. 

"Hikes? The outdoors? They're not exactly up your alley."

"So?"

"So it was an unusual choice for you, that's all," Jake said, pushing himself up from the ground to start heading back. "Are you getting up or are you stuck down there?"

He turned to look over his shoulder at Dirk, who was still sitting on the edge of the trail.

"Hey, I'm just admiring the view," Dirk said.

"Well stop admiring my arse and get up so we can start heading back," he said. "A few pictures, then let's move on."

He was standing by the railing when Dirk finally got up and sauntered over, leaning his elbows on the edge of the fence. 

"So," he said with a heavy, but blatantly intentional, sigh. "Throw it in, Baggins."


	5. Interfishin' 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we're back in Miami, for now.

**March, 2016**

"I'm such a good person," Vriska mumbled. "I'm just a good person with awful luck and I'm trying not to hate you, Peixes but you're making it so damn hard." 

"Oh, don't be so dramatic! You had to get up anyway!" 

Vriska just groaned into her pillow and tried to ignore all the noise her new roommate was making. 

It was Spring Break and Meenah's younger sister had insisted on making the trip from Jacksonville to Miami for the week. Just for fun, she'd claimed. 

Vriska wasn't so sure.

"It's not even seven in the morning." 

"So?" 

" _So_ ," Feferi insisted. "If we hurry up and get to work, we can leave earlier in the afternoon!" 

"Don't call it work," Vriska said. She reluctantly sat up in bed once she admitted to herself that she wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon. "I'm not employed, I'm being babysat." 

"Don't be silly."

"How are you like that? It's fucking admirable, but it's also like, Prozac or something, right?" 

"No," Feferi laughed. 

She was standing across the room already dressed in a bright skirt and a tank top over her bikini. Vriska watched her as she fought with her hair, struggling to wrangle the hip-length tresses back off her face and into a high, bushy ponytail. 

"Bullshit," Vriska said. "Do mine," she added as soon as Feferi was done with her own hair. 

"Okay, so move over then!" 

Her injury was on the mend, but she was still far from functioning. The pins had been taken out of her wrist but the plates and screws spread throughout her arm would stay with her for life; so would her limited mobility. 

Vriska shuffled over to the edge of the bed and swung her feet out onto the floorboards. She ran her right hand carefully across her left shoulder and down her arm, her fingers brushing lightly over the obvious and still tender surgical scars. In some places she could feel her own touch but in other places she was numb, the nerves removed with sections of her skin or simply damaged beyond repair. It was still a strange sensation to feel an ache in her new artificial elbow, but she had been assured it was simply the scar tissue and disruption to the area. 

Her wrist felt like it was on fire when she tried to move her fingers. 

"You were sleeping on it," Feferi said as she knelt on the bed behind Vriska to do her hair. "I thought about moving you but you were asleep and I thought that was more important." 

"Whatever," Vriska said dismissively. "It's fine." 

"It hurts like a bitch."

"Okay, so it hurts like a bitch but I'm not about to whine about it." 

"Yesterday you complained about your coffee being shit, your phone going flat too fast, me sharing your bed, your sister talking to you," Feferi pointed out as she started pulling Vriska's hair back to brush through it with her fingers. 

"Yeah, because she was talking to me when I was in the shower!" 

"You still whined about it. Pass me those pins." 

Vriska leant forward to pick up the few bobby pins from the bedside table and handed them back to Feferi over her shoulder. 

"You've got a sister, you know what they're like. And yours is _Meenah_."

"But she's ten whole years older than me," Feferi said, her voice muffled through the pins between her teeth as she worked Vriska's dirty blonde hair into a messy bun. "It's different." 

"How?"

"Because I was only eight when she kind of moved out the first time."

"Kind of?" Vriska asked; she should hardly feel the bobby pins scrape her scalp as Feferi slid them into place to keep stray hairs from escaping. 

"Yeah, she moved out technically but she came back for like a few weeks at a time for years. So she kind of moved out but kind of just didn't come home much."

"That still doesn't explain how it was different," Vriska said.

She stood up when Feferi nudged her forward, and went to stand in front of the mirror to examine her hair.

It looked fine. Messy, but in an organised way, unlike when she did it herself.

"Let me put it this way: I learnt a lot of stuff I shouldn't have learnt when I was six, because she was already sixteen."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"Well," Vriska said, lips pursed as she searched through a pile of clothes on the floor for something to wear. "I mean, so did I because my mom is shady as _fuck_ but I learnt a lot of useful stuff pretty early on. Like, you know, lock picking, evidence tampering. Normal stuff." 

"Okay, but that's cool?" Feferi said, busying herself at the mirror again while Vriska started to change. "I learnt what guys have in their pants and then my mom gave me the talk. When I was six. _My mom_. And she's really, _really_ open minded." 

"Ouch." 

"Yeah. Are you ready yet?"

"Can you help me with this?" Vriska asked, gesturing to the straps of the sling hanging over her shoulders. "And the bra." 

"How did you get dressed before I got here?" Feferi asked with a smile as she clipped the straps into place, then secured Vriska's clasp and straightened out her tank top. 

"Ugh, Aranea." 

Feferi laughed and picked up her phone from the bedside table. 

"Let's go!"

+++

"Oi, brats, food's up," Meenah called out from behind the counter. "Ya know the pair of you can fuck off whenever, aight? I got staff."

"Yeah, but I came down to help!" Feferi said with a smile. She skipped around the counter to return the cloth she'd be using to wipe down tables and traded it for a sandwich. "And I'm having fun, so it's okay." 

"Ain't you got homework?"

"Did it."

"Extra credit?"

"Did it!"

"A life outside a' all your school shit?" Meenah asked with a frown.

"I guess I'm missing a whole week of swim team practice because I'm here?" Feferi said, fighting her sister's frown with a huge smile. "Thanks for the sandwich!" 

Vriska rolled her eyes when Feferi took both plates and started heading out to the deck. She picked up both soda bottles in her right hand and followed, ignoring whatever Meenah was saying to her as she went. 

For no reason other than she felt like it, Vriska let the door slam shut behind her. 

"So you're a Senior, right?" Vriska asked, once they were sitting at a table outside.

"Junior," Feferi corrected. "Almost a Senior though! What about you?"

"In true Serket style, I fucked up and dropped out because wow, college was just so _boring_ , you know?" Vriska said. 

"Your sister's smart though, right? She'd almost got a PhD." 

"Yeah, but she's the outlier."

"Kind of like me," Feferi said, swapping over her sandwich for one of the sodas. "Meenah did a business degree but she kinda just fluked her way through it, and Mom dropped out of high school because she got pregnant with Meenah." 

"She was in high school?"

"Uh-huh. She was at a party, like, an end of year start of summer kind of thing, but she was friends with a lot of pretty weird people? And she got super drunk and so did the guy she went with, and then things happened and eventually so did Meenah," Feferi explained.

"So Meenah's dad is your mom's high school boyfriend?" Vriska asked. 

"What? No, she never had a boyfriend, she's a lesbian." 

"But you just said she went to a party with a guy."

"Yeah, her best friend who was gay. That's like half the reason they were friends." 

"Wait, so _how_ did your mom get knocked up in high school?" Vriska asked through a mouthful of sandwich. 

"Jeez, keep up! They were drunk at a party where pretty much anything was cool, and her best friend was too busy sucking a dick in the corner to tell her she was getting fucked by an actual guy and not a girl wi - "

"Okay, okay, stop, would you? Trying to eat here," Vriska said, cutting off Feferi's story. "Why do you even _know_ that?"

"I think she told me so I wouldn't do anything like that," Feferi shrugged. "Because she didn't tell Meenah until way later, and Meenah turned out like, well, kinda exactly like Mom was back in the day."

"So what, the moral of the story turned out to be that finishing high school is overrated?"

"Or that taking Home Ec for three years because your best friend makes you do it with him means you can end up as a pastry chef so good that all the kids call you the batterwitch," Feferi said. "True story."

"Cool. So," Vriska asked as she struggled to take the cap off her soda again with one hand. In the end, she just put the bottle between her knees to stop it from endlessly spinning on her. "You got a boyfriend or what?"

"No," Feferi sighed. "I mean, my best friend keeps trying to be my boyfriend even though I've told him no. Like, he got it in his head that it's meant to be and it's really not, you know? _Don't_ tell Meenah, she'll fly home and kill him. He's harmless though, he never actually tries anything. He just sort of mopes around a lot but she'll kill him anyway."

"He sounds like a dick."

"He is," Feferi said with a shrug. "But I've known him my whole life and he's still my friend. Anyway, he's a Senior so he'll be leaving for college soon anyway." 

"Cold, I like it," Vriska said, nodding in approval. 

"What about you?"

"What do you mean what about me?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Uh. Kind of," she said. 

"Kind of?" Feferi prompted.

"It's complicated," Vriska said; she took the sudden rush of frustration out on a bite of her sandwich. "We want different things. It's a whole shitshow, you know?"

"Yeah but do you like him?"

Vriska gave an obvious snort of laughter. 

"I only moved to _Washington_ because he's like, the only friend I have that actually likes me," she said. "And Terezi doesn't count."

"Because she's not really your friend?" Feferi asked as she checked her phone. 

"No, because I'd literally kill anyone for her so I think there's a bias there," Vriska explained, matter-of-factly. "I mean, sure, I would for John, but he wouldn't ever ask me to? And yeah, Terezi doesn't count because she's like me and kind of horrible to everyone except when she really likes them, and she gets away with it because she's twice as blind as I am. I don't exactly keep many friends around."

"Just because you don't really want to or what?"

"Because I'm a huge fucking bitch, Feferi. A huge, fucking _bitch_ with the worst luck in the world and that's why the whole John thing is a shitshow." 

"Woooow," Feferi said slowly, putting her phone back onto the table face-down. "So you really like him, huh?"

"In case you haven't noticed, you're the one still in high school, not me," Vriska snapped. 

Feferi giggled. 

"Let's go to the beach," she said, standing up and stacking both sandwich plates. "You want me to take your phone to Meenah's office so no one steals it?"

"Yeah, okay," Vriska said. 

She handed over her phone and straightened out the chairs at their table as Feferi relayed their plans to her sister. There was no way she could ever admit that she'd been called out by an eleventh grader, but Feferi was right; she liked John enough that she wasn't ready to give up on him, especially not when she'd hardly spoken to him since the accident. 

"You ready?"

"Yeah, here," she said, swinging the soda bottles up so Feferi could take her Sprite. 

"Hey, so while we're _kinda_ on the subject," Feferi asked as they walked down off the deck and onto the sidewalk; the bakery was only half a block from the beach so they weren't in for a very long walk. 

"Shoot, kiddo."

"So there was definitely something going on in the other room last night, right?"

"Oh my _god_ , it's disgusting, right? Like jeez, at least try to keep it down." 

"I know, right?! I'm still traumatised from everything I saw as a kid and it's just all kinds of gross flashbacks," Feferi said, pulling a face. "Have you got any earplugs?"

"I've got early 2000s pop-punk," Vriska said. "That's worked for weeks before you got here." 

"Augh, anything!" 

As they walked down the street and turned onto the crowded beach, Vriska realised it was the first time she'd been since she arrived back in Miami. 

She'd spent half her life at the beach back in high school. There wasn't much else to do, especially not once you went even further south. It was free, the cops were lenient as long as you weren't being a dick to them, and you could set off fireworks late at night and bolt before you got caught. 

Back then she'd enjoyed the whole experience, at least ,as much as anyone could enjoy living on the outskirts of Homestead. 

Vriska sat down on the sand, legs outstretched so the ocean lapped against her pointed toes. The tide would come in eventually and surround her with water but it didn't matter, everyone and everything in Miami already smelled of the sea. 

Feferi dove straight in and swum out almost a hundred yards before she stopped and turned around to wave. 

She waved back. 

Vriska watched a small crab scuttle across the sand nearby and disappear into the water. 

There was nothing she missed about Florida.


	6. [A6.2A4]: cheeky nando's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are surprises.

**May, 2016**

It had been five months yet Rose still felt as if her life was stagnating. Five months since she had made that first serious step in the right direction, five months since she had left her old life behind to start moving forward. 

Five months since she had dropped out of Princeton. 

Realistically, she had been trying to convince herself for those five months, she wouldn't have made it to graduation even if she had stayed in school. Her classes had rarely been her top priority and their importance had slipped further down the list as her issues compounded. 

Two and a half of those months had been spent in inpatient treatment. 

If she was going to sort her life out, she was going to go all in. She had spent her entire childhood watching her own mother struggle, cycling through sobriety and alcoholism in a never-ending battle. That was not something Rose wanted for herself, and not something she wanted Kanaya to deal with for a minute longer. 

She had cried every day for the first three weeks, and most days for the rest of her stay. Her life had been structured with every decision already made for her. They told her when to eat, when to sleep, when to attend meetings and individual sessions, and occasionally even when she could or couldn't use the bathroom. 

Her first instinct had been to argue. She wanted to fight every request, to refuse to eat her mashed potatoes just to see what would happen. For the first time in a very long time, she was not in control of her own decisions and the adjustment was almost more than she could bear. 

It wasn't the end, she had to remind herself. It was simply a chance to start over. 

After ten weeks of slow progress, they told her she was allowed to go home. She didn't know how to take the news; it didn't feel real. She didn't think she'd made much progress. Even in going home, she would still be required to attend weekly meetings and counselling, and had no idea what it would be like going home when home was new to her. 

Despite her hesitations, Rose was prouder of herself for making it to bed in one piece on the night of her discharge than she ever had been of her 2120 SAT score. 

The hardest adaptation had been her sudden and overwhelming expanse of free time. Without college she had no reason to work, and without drinking until she passed out she was awake for more hours in a day. After a week of settling back into the outside world, she had asked Porrim to drive her into central London; Porrim had just laughed and taken her in on the Tube instead. Her mother had been sending money through as usual, but in pounds it didn't go quite as far. She had enough, though, to buy what she had in mind.

It would take time, but her knowledge of the violin was slowly coming back. 

Rose returned the instrument to its case and snapped the locks shut; an hour and a half was enough for one day. As she stood up she turned her head, trying to crack her neck to prevent it from seizing after being held in the same position for so long. When she felt the bones pop back into place, she stood up and took the violin case in one hand and her phone in the other. 

Kanaya's mother smiled at her, full of pride, as she walked back through the kitchen to head upstairs. 

She put the case down just inside the door and crossed the bedroom without saying anything. Kanaya was mid-chapter, and Rose knew better than to interrupt her. Instead, she just sat down opposite her on the window seat and looked out onto the street below. 

It was late afternoon. She counted the teenagers who walked past, heading home from the school a few blocks away, in their last few weeks of the term. Every so often the sound of a page turning would draw her attention back to Kanaya, who was either reading the longest chapter in the world or deliberately taking her time. 

"And how is your story?" Rose asked a few minutes later, when Kanaya finally returned the old receipt to between the pages of her book. 

"Delightfully filthy," Kanaya replied nonchalantly. "In all the best ways."

"I might have to borrow it when you're done."

"Oh, there's no might about it."

"I have some news," Rose said suddenly. 

"Good or bad?"

"Neither, but I should have seen it coming."

"Go on," Kanaya said as she fixed the strap of her tank top, lifting it back up into place on her shoulder; Rose was somewhat disappointed by the motion. 

"We have to postpone."

"How long?" 

"Another week."

"Because?"

"Because my dear, sweet, baby brother is, for lack of a better descriptor, a fucking idiot."

+++

Dave had been standing in the middle of his dorm room for what felt like days. 

His time was up. 

Two years. For two entire years he had lived in the small room. He'd known for months - longer - that the day was coming but he'd chosen to ignore it for as long as possible. He'd ignored the updates about the new building, ignored the reminder emails about putting in a new room request early to ensure they could accommodate him. When he finally managed to convince himself to go and talk to the administration, they'd told him that as a current resident he would have priority for one of the new rooms. 

What about the modifications, he'd asked. 

Somewhere along the way, at some point in those two years, the note had been removed from his file. 

They were going to look into it, they told him. They didn't know if the note had been removed, or if someone had forgotten to write it down in the first place. He was sure they were legally required to make the few modifications for him, but he'd never brought it up; he never did, since that would mean acknowledging his vision problems as a legitimate disability. 

He'd never ended up putting in a request.

"Hey, fucktrumpet, what's the hold up?"

Dave didn't turn around when Karkat walked back into his room.

"Temporal inevitability."

"And the Lalonde to English translation is what?"

"There was always gonna be an expiry date, right?" Dave asked. "Like, most kids only get one year in the same room. They think it was when they updated the software a few months back, they lost a lot of add on data in the transfer."

"Dude, you know my parents don't give two shits about you hoarding boxes in Kankri's room," Karkat pointed out.

"And when the summer's over?"

"I'm pretty sure Mom thinks you live at our place anyway."

"Yeah, okay," Dave said.

He reached down and picked up the backpack from beside his feet and slung one strap over his shoulder. 

"You know it's just a room, right? And you kind of hated it."

"Yeah. I mean, no, but yeah okay, I kind of hated it because it's small but it's a dorm room, right? You gotta expect that it's gonna be cramped and smell like ass all the time," Dave said. "But it's where I lived for two years and I did a lot of fucking shit here. Like, I've spent literal months of my time sitting at that desk working my ass off to keep my grades up and the money rolling in, and now it's just like, see you later, Dave, you know?"

"No, no one knows. You're a fucking lunatic."

"Yeah, I forgot."

"We going or what?" Karkat asked.

Dave knew that Karkat was just hovering in the doorway as he snapped a few last photos in the empty room. He took some more then added a few short videos to his Snapchat story.

"Yeah, let's go," he said eventually. 

He almost made it out the door but stopped just short of the threshold and turned back around. He crossed over to the other side of the room and lifted both blinds, letting the mid-morning sun into the room for the first time in over a year. 

It was a cool view out onto the street below. 

The rest of his belongings were already at Karkat's place. He'd started moving them over a week before he had to leave his dorm for the last time, leaving bits and pieces at first but calling for Ubers when it came to transporting the larger items. He knew that his things were out of the way and would be for the next few months, or for however long it was until he could figure out something more permanent. He had a few trips planned over the summer and would be in and out of the city every few weeks. 

He'd had to delay his first trip by a week because it took a lot longer to get a passport than he'd thought it would. 

When Rose had asked him to visit, he'd said yes before she could even finish asking the question. 

It had cost him seven hundred dollars for the initial flight, and another three when he'd had to change the date of his trip. His passport had set him back almost two hundred once he included the expedited processing, which he'd needed because his birth certificate had taken longer to arrive than he'd anticipated. 

The whole process had been an experience. 

Dave had never seen a copy of his full birth certificate before. He knew what to expect from it, but it was still a strange sensation to think he was associated with a document that needed to be shipped across the country. 

He knew it was modified. He knew Dirk had a court order that allowed him to remove one name from the certificate, and that was all he'd changed. 

Dave had been born in Houston, Harris County on December 3rd, 1996. 

He'd contemplated having his documentation changed again, by his own hand, just to bring everything into line. He'd never had anything to do with Texas. 

It was still strange to think that Strider should have been his legal name all along. He'd never been Dave Lalonde, of Parishville, St. Lawrence County, but the more time passed, the more he felt like that was what his documentation should say. He'd lived his entire life upstate. Classmates who had been raised in the city could pick him out a mile away, at least as soon as he opened his mouth and they heard his blatant upstate accent. 

If nothing else, it was hilarious to think about Dirk ever having lived in Houston.

His passport eventually arrived three days before his rescheduled flight. Between his license and his college ID, he was getting used to seeing photos of himself without his sunglasses but there was something clinical about the picture on his passport. It was more than likely the fact he'd had the photo taken on a bad day; his eyes were already irritated when he'd gone in, and whatever flash setting they'd used was causing his irises to seem a vibrant red where they were usually much less obviously so.

He'd left for the airport with more than enough time to get to his gate. Flying international was more of a pain than any of the domestic trips he'd ever taken. By the time he was boarding, he'd sent Karkat an apology for all the shit he'd given him over the advice to wear a pair of slip on Vans.

Karkat's reply had just been a series of upside down question marks.

Dave sent back the upside down face and switched his phone to flight mode.

+++

"Aw, Bec, why now?"

Jade just stood with her hands on her hips as Bec looked up at her, sheepishly. She sighed and reached into her satchel for a plastic bag to clean up after her dog. 

"You're not in trouble, silly," she said, flipping the bag inside out. "But you can't poo on the sidewalk, remember! I know we've been in the city all day but we just have one more thing to do then we can go home. How does that sound?"

Bec gave a single, deep bark in reply as Jade tied the bag and slung it into the nearby trashcan. 

"Someone sounds excited." 

"Papa, you're here!" Jade exclaimed. 

She stopped herself from giving her uncle a hug just in time, realising she should probably wash her hands first. 

"Just in time, too," he said. "Let's go." 

They climbed the few steps to the hall together, and after a brief detour to the bathroom, found their seats just by the entrance. Her uncle had called ahead to enquire about the availability of the handicapped seating and the theater had been happy to allocate them two seats adjacent to the empty spot so Bec could lie down out of the way. 

"You can nap, sleepyhead," she said, scratching Bec behind the ears. "Oh, I know what you want!" 

Jade rummaged through her bag to find the toy she was looking for; Bec's tail thumped against the floor a few times when she held out the stuffed rabbit. When she gave him the signal to lie down, he did, and she put the rabbit down for him to rest his head on. 

"Shh," she said. "Just go to sleep, I'm okay," she said again as the lights started to dim overhead. 

When John finally walked out onto the stage, five acts in, and took his place at the grand piano, Jade couldn't help but giggle; looked so silly in his suit. 

He gave a short spiel before he started, explaining who he was and that he'd spent all semester composing the piece he was about to play. Jade knew that was a lie, he'd been working on it sporadically for years. He cracked a few jokes and she laughed again as her uncle just shook his head, amused by John's bold attempt to bring humour to a concert. 

When he made another joke, this time about how he needed a minute because his shirt sleeves were in the way, there were scattered laughs as the rest of the audience realised he was actually trying to be funny.

Eventually, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, John ran his hands through his hair and messed it up.

"It's supposed to look windswept, or something," he said into the microphone before he finally pushed the swinging arm aside.

He flashed one last toothy grin, smiling wider when Jade finally managed to catch his attention with her enthusiastic waving, then started playing. 

Jade had heard the piece before. She'd heard it every day for months, in snippets at least, not even counting all the times he'd made her sit beside his keyboard with the headphones on, just to see if he could play it without even hearing the feedback. 

He could, every time. 

Bec stood up and put his chin in Jade's lap when he recognised the music. She scratched him comfortingly behind the ear, indulging him more than she should have, but he'd heard the piece just as often as she had. Bec knew John was there, but couldn't find him and was only doing his job; Jade had laughed when, back in February, she'd realised that Bec had taken John on as another one of his charges. 

"Shh," Jade said, giving Bec the signal to lie back down. 

John had told her about the story behind his composition. It was the tale of a hero who could control the wind and his quest to save the world, and how that was a lot harder than the hero expected. He had to search for clues and fight strange creatures just to find the monster who could help him on his quest. 

When she'd asked if the hero succeeded, John had just laughed and told her that of course he did. It wouldn't be a very good story without a happy ending. 

Jade jolted awake suddenly. 

She figured that the concert was over because the house lights were on, the theatre was almost entirely empty, and John was kneeling on a chair in the row in front of her. He was facing away from the stage, draped over the back of the chair as he punched out a series of messages on his phone. 

"Dad's gone to get the car," he said, returning his phone to the inside pocket of his blazer. "You fell asleep so fast! I finished playing, right, and you made a face at me, you know the really ugly one? And by the time I made it back into the wings you were out on Dad's shoulder," John explained. "He says we're stopping at Southcenter on the way home to go to Olive Garden."

"Why does he like Olive Garden so much?" Jade asked through a yawn as she stretched out from her nap. 

"I think he thinks we really like it because we took him for his birthday that one time when we were eight?" John suggested with a shrug. "I do kinda want lasagne though." 

"Ohh, me too?" 

"Boo, lame, we can't both get lasagne."

"Says who?" 

"Me, right now," John said. "Let's go."

"Come on, Bec," Jade said as she stood up. "Good boy!" 

Her dog was following along on her heels with his toy rabbit in his mouth, nudging her hand as they walked until she took the stuffed animal from him out in the foyer. 

"Dad's around the corner," John said, checking his phone. "That way." 

Jade followed her cousin back out onto the street, falling into step beside him with Bec pushing his way in between them; he'd learnt that walking between them when they were out meant twice as many pats. John took the front passenger's seat before Jade could call shotgun, so she just ushered Bec into the car first and had him lie down across the back seat. 

She sat quietly as they drove out of the city, because John had started jabbering to his dad before he'd even clicked his seatbelt into place. 

It was strange to still be in Seattle five months after arriving; she hadn't even spent five months in total in the contiguous United States since she was twelve. She missed a lot of things about travelling. It was a lot harder than she'd anticipated to live by a schedule, and to follow that schedule every day. She missed seeing new places, and sleeping under the stars, and she even missed her Grandpa being overbearing and fussy.

It was almost boredom, but she couldn't tell John that. He'd just take it personally.

"Can I have the chicken tenders?" Jade asked the waitress. "And a steak."

"Jade, Bec has food at home," her uncle said.

"He doesn't like dog food though," she said.

"Hey, wait, if you're not getting the lasagne, can I get it?" John asked from beside her. 

"What? That's not fair, you said we can't both have it so I thought you meant neither of us could!" Jade exclaimed.

"That's just silly," he said.

"Enough," her uncle interrupted, before their argument could escalate. "I'll have the baked chicken and a salad. They'll each have the lasagne, and we'll have three sodas and three slices of cake for dessert."

"Which cake would you like?"

"Any three, surprise us. Nut free, please, on everything, my son is severely allergic."

"Dad!" John groaned. 

"Well you are, John."

"And a steak!" Jade piped up as the waitress scribbled down their order. 

"No steak. Let's compromise, Jade. Bec can have the leftover burgers from two nights ago when we get home."

"Okay," she agreed. "Hey, your phone's buzzing," she said, reaching into John's blazer pocket to fish out his cell. 

"Stop that," he said, plucking the phone out of her hands. "Hey, it's Roxy! She says hi from Boston, that her contacts at Harvard are being snobby bitches because she went to Princeton, and she wants to know how my recital went," he explained, reading the series of messages as they appeared on his screen. "Want me to tell her you said hi, Dad?"

Jade couldn't help but wonder what her Grandpa was having for dinner in Costa Rica. She was a little bit mad at him for going without her, because she'd never been and had always wanted to see the spider monkeys there. He was going to remote Northern Canada in December though, and she was going with him. They'd never been to the Arctic before and she wasn't missing out on that, not for anything. 

She was going to come home more often though. There was no way she could go years at a time without seeing the rest of her family anymore, or her friends. Grandpa was going to be based out of Yellowknife for the better part of the next year, and she was sure she could convince him to let her fly back a few times.

Maybe John could even come and visit. 

"Jade!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Stop feeding Bec your lasagne under the table," her uncle said.

"I'm not!" Jade exclaimed.

"Then why is he licking sauce off my shoe?"

+++

Five months. A whole season. An entire semester. Five whole months had already gone by. In that time he'd knocked out his second year of college and overloaded on subjects for the second time, so he could graduate one semester early. It had almost killed him, and it was only through his friends being more alert and Karkat being more dramatic than usual that he'd made it through without passing out from anything other than exhaustion. His blog views had increased and his follower count was still climbing steadily. Sweet Bro was still terrible, but a few of the comics he'd doodled on his phone had been making the usual Buzzfeed-tier rounds. He'd cracked a new income milestone, breaking fifteen hundred dollars in a month thanks to a legitimate commission he'd picked up back in March.

It had been five whole months.

"I missed you," he mumbled into Rose's hair, his arms clamped tightly around her.

"I know, Dave," she said, patting his back. "You've said that four times already during this most epic of hugs."

"You have no idea how long that is."

"About a hundred and thirty days, give or take."

"I haven't stopped in a hundred and thirty days," he said. "I got on a plane at like one in in the morning and now it's like two or some shit, right?"

"About quarter past two in the afternoon, yes," Rose said. She patted his back again, still stuck in his embrace, and sighed. "And I know you haven't. Karkat was sending me hourly updates at one point."

"He's such a fucking bitch."

"I think it's sweet."

"Of course you do, you're insidious."

"Do you think we could end the hug now?"

"Five months, Rosie."

"It's been five minutes, David."

That was enough for him to finally let go of his sister. Admittedly, it was only so he could reach into his pocket because her comment had reminded him of something, but he was staying for just over two weeks. There was time for more hugs.

"Check it," he said, flipping his passport open and holding it up like a secret agent. "I'm legally just Dave."

"Well, _David_ ," Rose said. "Shall we?"

She wasn't quite back to her old self, but if her level of sass was anything to go by, she was on the right track. 

He ordered a coffee on their way out of the airport - a triple shot Americano - because the plane had hit a rough patch of turbulence an hour in, and he hadn't been able to sleep. 

"You look good," he said once they were outside in the sun, waiting for the car to pull around and pick them up.

"How Freudian." 

"You know what I mean."

"I do," Rose said, linking her arm through his as she leant her head against him. "But I don't want to dwell on that right now. I'm not quite ready to talk about it all, you see."

"Yeah, I get it," he said. "I mean it though. You look good." 

"Thank you, David. Get in the car, would you?"

"What car?" Dave asked.

Before Rose had the chance to reply, a black Mercedes came to a stop right in front of them. 

"The trunk is called the boot here," Rose said as her arm slipped from his. "And the car is reversed." 

"I know, I've seen the movies," he said, walking around to the rear of the car with his suitcase. "Between John and Karkat, you think I haven't seen literally every movie in existence? This year? Rose?"

His sister was already in the car. 

Dave rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk closed before he climbed into the back seat of the car after her. 

"Kanaya you know," Rose said, gesturing to the front seat as he buckled his seatbelt. "Porrim, however, you don't."

"Hey," he said. "What's with the tattoos?"

"What's with the shorts?" Porrim asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. 

"I've got great thighs." 

"Hm, me too," she said before she pulled the car back out into traffic. 

"Nice," Dave said. "So, what's up?"

"Well," Rose said slowly, looking to Kanaya before she went on. "We're going home first, and then you're going shopping with Porrim."

"What? Why?"

"Because it's obnoxious to try and park a car in central London," Rose said. 

"No, why am I going shopping?"

"Have you seen those shorts?" Kanaya asked. "That's one reason why."

"Ouch," Dave said. "That stings, Kanaya. These are my best shorts."

"Yes, well," Rose interrupted. "You're going to need something a little bit nicer than your best shorts." 

"Why?"

"Because I - we - just so happen to be getting married."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"You're getting married tomorrow," he repeated, glancing back and forth between his sister and her girlfriend. "Like, legit?"

"I should hope so, we've paid for a very legit marriage certificate."

"Like, _married_ married?"

"Yes, Dave," Rose said patiently. "Have I ever told you that Kanaya and I _like_ like each other?"

"Oh my God," he said, working his arms free from his seatbelt to lean across the back of the car and awkwardly hug Rose. "Jesus shitballs, you're getting married? Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she said, laughing as he crushed her in his arms. "I'm getting married, tomorrow." 

He kissed her head and let go, trying to hug Kanaya as best he could from behind her seat. 

"Oh my God," he muttered. "You're getting fucking _married_." 

" _Don't_ tell Mom. I'll tell her when it feels right." 

"Mom loves Kanaya though," Dave said, still hugging his future sister-in-law around the back of the seat, his arms linked over her shoulders. 

"Yes, but she always told me I wasn't allowed to ever get married before I graduated college. And technically, I haven't graduated. It's a whole thing, you know what Mom's like on technicalities." 

"Yeah, technically I'm still not allowed to use the basement bathroom because of that time I flooded it when I was like six." 

"You deserved than ban," Rose said. "We had to replace the carpet in the den." 

"I was _six_."

"Old enough to know better than to block the shower drain." 

"Whatever," Dave said dismissively. He leant forward and pressed a smacking kiss to the side of Kanaya's head then sat back in his seat again. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Rose said, smiling widely. 

The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze. Dave had no idea where he was going, the roads were all backwards, and he was running on a few hours of broken sleep. He didn't know what he'd been expecting Kanaya's older sister to be like, but Porrim wasn't it. She dropped the girls, the car, and Dave's luggage off at the house before ushering him onto the Tube. 

Porrim seemed both frustrated and enthralled by the challenge of finding Dave a suit that fitted. She dragged him in and out of what felt like every store on Oxford Street in an attempt to find him something that would work. Every blazer they tried was either too short in the sleeves, or too wide in the shoulders. The trousers were all too big in the waist or fell just short of stylishly above the ankle. He tried explaining to her that it was inevitable, but she persisted. 

He'd lost count, but she thought it was either the tenth or eleventh store where they managed to find something. 

"We're going to have to compromise," she said, pursing her lips as she stared at him, leaning against the doorframe to the changeroom. "We're not finding you a shirt that fits, are we, love?"

"No chance," Dave said. "I've got totally freaky proportions, right?" 

"That's an understatement. Turn around again?"

"Look, this is as good as it gets," he said. 

"I think so. Hands in pockets for me?" Porrim said. Dave did, looking at her over the shoulder of his own reflection in the mirror. "Well, that's the best fit across the shoulders so it looks like we're going an inch too short in the sleeves. How are the trousers?"

"Okay," Dave shrugged, turning back around again. "Loose, but my ass isn't hanging out and yeah they're coming up short but I'll just wear my chucks and no one will notice."

"Hmm," Porrim said thoughtfully. "We'll see if we can get Kanaya to put a tuck in the back of them tonight, it should only take her five minutes. Get changed, it'll do," she said, letting the curtain back down again. 

"Man, Rosie's lucky I like her, what's five hundred pounds in American?"

"The amount it costs for a suit that fits your ridiculous frame," Porrim said. "We'll run those shoes through the wash tonight, pair them with a clean t-shirt, and call it a day."

"Seriously?"

"Why not? Black shoes, black suit. You got a white t-shirt?"

"Uh, yeah, I think." 

"Then you're done," she said through the curtain. "Let's get home before peak hour, unless you fancy being manhandled on the Tube."

+++

Karkat had known for a long time that Terezi's vision was only going to get worse. When they'd first met, she was able to make out letters in newspaper headlines and could follow along behind someone as long as she knew what they were wearing. But in the seven years since then, things had deteriorated to the point where even colours were beginning to fade. 

She was good at acting like it didn't bother her, but every so often he would catch her staring in a certain direction as if trying to memorise the few colours she could still see. Since he'd flown in the previous afternoon, she'd already sat him down twice and examined every inch of his face in an attempt to learn anything new about it that she could. 

Apparently, he was only getting uglier. 

He was sitting at the kitchen table, frowning, as Terezi rummaged through the kitchen cupboards. She had insisted on putting together their lunch, but so far her efforts had gone entirely into opening four snack bags of chips to sniff out which flavours they were. When she picked up a jar she thought was the right one, she opened it, smelled the contents, then stuck her finger in just to be sure. 

Karkat looked up from his phone when she started unloading an armful of items onto the table in front of him. Crunchy peanut butter, a loaf of bread, the already-open chips, and a butter knife; she'd managed a full meal. 

"Okay but why so many chips?" 

"Because I didn't know which bag was the salt and vinegar and which bag was the sour cream and onion, and then I dropped the bags and that's why we're about to fight to the death if you want the sour cream and onion ones," Terezi explained as she sat down opposite him. "Those are mine. Unless you want them, then you have to death battle me for them." 

"You can have them," he said.

"Ugh, boring!"

"You wanted to fight me to the death?"

"Kind of," she shrugged, then pulled a face when she ate one of the salt and vinegar chips. "Gross, where are the sour cream ones?"

"On the table," Karkat said. 

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe."

"High five," Terezi cackled, holding her hand up and waving it at him until he clapped it. "Okay, gimme my chips," she said, making grabbing motions until he passed her the green bag. 

She squinted suspiciously at the bag and sniffed it, just to make sure.

Karkat watched as she licked the flavour off one side of the chip, then put it down on the table and reached for another. 

"You're gross."

"Not as gross as you."

"Who's gross?" Latula asked, as she dropped into the chair beside Terezi and reached for the bread and peanut butter to make herself a sandwich. 

"Karkat. He farted last night and it was so gross I think I passed out," Terezi said.

"Bullshit, you laughed so hard you fell out of fucking bed," he retaliated through a mouthful of salt and vinegar chips. 

"Huh, so that's what that was," Latula said. She held the knife out and he took it from her to make his own sandwich. 

"Did you hear that? Tula heard you fart from her room!" Terezi exclaimed with a cackle. 

"That's not what she meant and you know it!" Karkat said pointedly. 

"Yeah, I just thought you guys were fucking." 

"Okay, Tula's the gross one," Terezi said, frowning. 

"Hey, all's I'm saying is if you'd gone to New York for the whole summer we wouldn't be having this conversation," Latula said with a shrug. "You'd be at his place, I'd be at Tuna's, then at least we could both be getting some this weekend."

"Hey, I'm still sitting right here," Karkat scowled, spreading his peanut butter a little too forcefully. 

"I know," Latula said. "But I was talking about you, not to you, so?" 

"Nice," he said. 

He frowned as he examined the hole he'd accidentally torn in his sandwich; it wasn't the end of the world, but he had to avoid the tear just so he didn't end up with peanut butter all over his fingers. 

"Okay, kidlets," she said, pushing her chair back out from the table. "So, it's one now, Mom finishes work at six, I'll be home at like, ten? I don't know," Latula said. "Dinner's ready to go, throw the pork in the oven at like five thirty, and I'm sure the two of you can figure out how to steam the veggies, right?"

"Yeah," Terezi said. "Rice?"

"Already in the rice cooker, just turn it on when Mom gets in," she said as she took another bite of her sandwich. "See ya." 

"Bye, Tula," Terezi said. "Bring back donuts!" 

"Maybe!" Latula called back, already in the garage. 

Karkat just sat, chewing his peanut butter sandwich and listening to the sounds of the motorised roller door open then close while Terezi sniffed then licked each of her sour cream and onion chips individually. 

"Okay, why?" 

Terezi looked up his direction when he asked the question, then picked up one of her pre-licked chips from the table and ate it, all while doing her best to maintain eye contact. 

"Because it grosses people out."

He paused.

"You're fucking amazing."

They both knew that when Latula had left instructions for dinner, Karkat would be the one who ended up doing everything himself. It wasn't exactly a challenging meal to prepare; he could manage a rice cooker and some vegetables, but Terezi was more of a hindrance than a help. 

In between avoiding her pre-planned route through the kitchen, laughing so hard at her attempts to narrate his every move he ended up with tears in his eyes, and taking a fifteen minute make out break, he got everything prepped and ready with time to spare. 

"How's college?"

Terezi had vanished upstairs to shower not long after her mom got home, leaving him to fend for himself.

"Okay," he said. "I'm passing, so."

"What are you studying again?" Terezi's mom asked as she sat down opposite him.

"Computer Science. Option number two for brown kids with immigrant parents."

"Option number one being medicine?"

"Yeah," he said, flipping his phone face-down onto the table. "But I wasn't getting into that whole thing."

"Why not?"

"Mostly grades," he shrugged. "I thought about haematology for a while."

"But?" 

"But both my parents are doctors and it just seems like a lot of following procedures and shift work, and I don't have the patience to do med school," Karkat said.

"Shame. It would have paid more and you'll need the income if you want to stay in New York," she said matter-of-factly. 

"Tell me about it," he muttered. "I'll figure it out."

"You know that Terezi will probably earn more in her first year than you ever will, don't you?"

"So?" Karkat frowned. 

"So that might bother some people," she said flippantly.

"I don't give a fuck," he said. "Shit, sorry. I mean, why should I care about that? Like, good for her."

"You shouldn't," she agreed. 

"Is this one of those meet the parents, let me try and terrify you into treating my daughter right, movie schtick moments?" Karkat asked, suddenly suspicious of all the questions that Terezi's mom was asking.

"No," she said. "But I am her mom and I do worry about the lasting power of a high school relationship."

"We're in college."

"Was that supposed to be sass?"

"Shit, sorry. Fuck, I mean. What?"

"Look," she said. "I'm only worried for her because it wouldn't be the first time someone in her life decided that her being blind was too hard to deal with."

"But I don't care about that," he said, quieter once he'd reigned his emotions back in. "I'm a fucking asshole sometimes, yeah, but I'm not that kind of asshole."

"Well I'm glad to hear it," Terezi's mom said, standing back up to go and check on the vegetables.

"I'll figure something out," he said again, getting up as well and following her back across the kitchen so he didn't have to yell. "Like yeah, it sucks because she lives here and I live in New York, and this is fucking Canada and not America, but I'll figure something out. There's time, there's always time, right? And I've got two years left to figure it out."

"You watch too many movies," she said with a gentle laugh. "Things are harder in real life, they don't always fall into place at the last minute."

"I know. I just want her to be happy though," he said, staring down at the tiled floor to avoid any unnecessary eye contact with Terezi's mom. "That's it."

His head snapped back up when he heard a loud snort of laughter.

"Gay," Terezi said.

Her mom just smiled when Karkat felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

+++

"Hey, Rosie, Porrim wants to know if you're awake yet or if you need anything, and I mean I'm pretty sure you're awake because I heard y - whoa."

Dave came to a sudden stop just inside the doorway of Kanaya and Rose's bedroom, almost spilling coffee down the front of his Macklemore t-shirt. 

He'd been downstairs all morning with both of the Maryam sisters fussing over him. Kanaya had approved his outfit, even the t-shirt because it was 'very Dave'. She'd put a tuck in the back of his new trousers the night before, narrowing the waistband enough that it didn't matter if his belt was just for show. She'd insisted on running his Converse through the washing machine to clean them in less time than it would take to do the job by hand, since they all had so much else to do. He'd been told - not asked - to wear his sunglasses with the gold rims, since there was gold lettering on his shirt. 

Porrim, on the other hand, made him toast and jam for breakfast then did his hair while he was eating. 

She'd made him a fourth slice when he said he'd had enough.

He'd sat out in the kitchen while Kanaya changed in the living room. She'd spent weeks making her own dress, and it showed. Everything about it was, as far as he could tell, perfect. The fabric hugged her frame in all the right places so it stayed in place despite being strapless, and the looser skirt hung from her waist and draped in such a way that he knew she'd done some magic stitching to keep the folds exactly where she wanted them. 

Dave had started taking photos before anyone had asked. He captured Porrim weaving a series of flowers into Kanaya's hair, took close-ups of all the details on her dress that she'd done by hand, and all the unspoken moments in between. 

Porrim had eventually ushered him upstairs to check on Rose and to make sure she was almost ready to go. It was probably his own fault for not asking the question, but between his jetlag and lack of sleep, and the fact she'd dropped the news of her impending nuptials less than twenty-four hours earlier, he hadn't even considered what his sister was planning to wear. 

Rose was standing in front of the mirrored closet door, frowning at her reflection as she tucked her pink shirt into the waistband of her tailored trousers.

"Knock it off, you've never been speechless in your life," she said, turning to check that the back was sitting smoothly.

"Not true," he said. He put his camera down on the dresser and walked over to stand behind Rose. When she threw the strip of white fabric around the back of her neck, he draped himself over her shoulders and swatted her hands out of the way. "I mean, there was the whole _Dave, I am your father_ thing, I was speechless at that. And then remember Bro and Pops ended up on vacation during Spring fucking Break because for the first time in his life Bro didn't make a list, like, that had me out of words for _days_ , man," he went on as he straightened out the tie material and started folding it over itself. "And I mean there's been plenty of other times for sure, but the hell I'm telling you what caused those because that's my personal fucking business. Check that shit out, that's a fucking Eldredge knot," he said a few moments later, once he was done with her tie. "That is officially the fanciest thing I know how to do. John taught me in San Diego." 

"It's lovely," Rose said quietly, as she let Dave help her into her fitted blazer. "What about you?"

"Not one, but two Maryam's have agreed I should wear this sick t-shirt."

"You mean they both agree you have no sense of style."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"I would," Rose said, turning away from the mirror at last. "Do you think I'm making a stupid, rash, and ill-advised decision?"

"With what, the shirt or the hair?"

" _Dave_." 

"Hey," he said, dropping backwards to sit down roughly on the end of the bed. "How should I know? I'm like, the least qualified member of our family to talk about relationships."

"I'm not even twenty-one, what was I thinking?" Rose asked as she sat down next to him. "Twenty _fucking_ one."

"At the risk of sounding like some sap from the shitty novels you used to read when you were like, thirteen or whatever, you were thinking that she's it for you," Dave said. "You're done. You don't need to spend the next decade on the lookout for someone who can keep up with you because you somehow found her on your _Lord of the Rings_ RP board back in like, middle school." 

"It wasn't _Lord of the Rings_ and it wasn't exclusive until high school." 

"Whatever. So you found her early, big deal," he shrugged. "Like sure, my money was on Karkat and Terezi getting hitched before graduation and now I owe Aradia fifty bucks, but whatever," he went on. "And hey, if you tell anyone I said this I'll have to kill you, but I like you more when you're happy."

"How scandalous," Rose said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Right? It's true though. So you get married and be happy and smile so much that people start to ask why the sun shines out your ass, and leave being the sad sack who lives alone in perpetual darkness to me," Dave said. "Deal?"

"Well, I suppose it's that or a suicide pact."

"Great wedding day joke, nice. You ready or what?"

"As ready as I suppose I can be," Rose said.

"Nice," he said as he stood up. "Porrim says the Northern Line gets busy around lunch and that we should probably hurry up if we all want seats on the subway."

"The Tube."

"Whatever."

+++

Sometimes it was obvious what had woken him up. Sometimes it was the sound of tires screeching through suburban streets, or neighbours arguing, or even the faucet dripping in the bathroom. Sometimes it was Jake turning in his sleep, fighting off unseen threats or challengers in his dreams. 

Sometimes, only sometimes, it was a feeling. 

When Dirk opened his eyes and found himself inexplicably wide awake, he knew that something wasn't right. 

He stared at the ceiling and waited for his heartbeat to slow back down to its regular pace before he reached for his phone. It was just after four thirty in the morning. Four thirty meant it was seven thirty in New York, but no one was in New York. Roxy was either still in Boston or back in Washington, in his timezone, and Dave was with Rose in London. In London it was eleven thirty. It was lunchtime for the kids. 

Jake was still asleep beside him and would be for another hour, maybe two. Dirk sat up in bed and counted slowly, up to twenty then back down again, before he reached out to rest his right hand on Jake's chest; his heart was beating normally.

He withdrew his hand and flipped back the covers, because there was no way he'd be getting back to sleep as long as the universe felt as unsettled as it did. 

It took until he was upstairs, waiting for his desktop to boot, that he realised it had been over twenty-four hours since he'd heard from the kids. 

Dirk picked up his phone to double check despite knowing he was right. Rose's last message to him had come two days earlier, a promise that Dave would be fine with her in London and that she would supervise him as best she could. Dave had last been in contact until an hour after his flight landed; he'd gone quiet after assurances that he would try to get out and see Jake's parents. 

Even his social media was abnormally quiet. A few Instagram posts, all of them mundane, and not much else on any of his other channels. 

When Dave went radio silence on social media, it meant something was happening that he wanted to keep on the down low. 

timaeusTestified [TT] RIGHT NOW opened a memo on board How illegal are we talking?

TT: You're both suspiciously quiet. What's going on?  
turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum!  
tentacleTherapist [TT] is an idle chum!  
TT: This doesn't help your cause. Someone just report in before I report you missing.   
TT: Imagine being Scotland fucking Yard and getting a call from some asshole American who thinks his kid is missing because it's been over twenty four hours since he last posted a selfie.  
TT: Imagine being the American who had to make that call.   
TT: Call it intuition, or parentally-induced existential fear, or whatever you like, but something woke me up at four thirty in the morning and let me assure you, it wasn't anything worth waking up this early for because I'm the only one awake.   
TT: Oh my God, Dave's getting laid, isn't he?

timaeusTestified [TT] closed memo.

While his last statement seemed highly improbable, it was just provocative enough that if either Dave or Rose had been looking at their phones, they would have been unable to resist breaking the silence. 

But Dirk waited and no reply came. On one hand, he was concerned. Something just wasn't sitting right and he couldn't place the feeling, not exactly. It was just a sense. They were up to something that was bound to become a buried secret, spoken about only in code and never in the direct presence of a parent. But on the other hand, he was glad that Dave had made the trip over to see Rose after she'd left so suddenly at the end of December. They'd heard from her only sporadically for months while she settled into the new stage of her life. 

The entire morning was a puzzle he couldn't solve.

It wasn't even about the kids or reasoning or logic by the time Jake woke up at six. He'd wound himself up over being unable to piece together the information and couldn't find the right explanation for why he was so highly strung so early in the morning. 

Something was happening, something he should have been able to figure out because the information was there even if he didn't know exactly where, but he'd hit the proverbial wall.

"Oi," Jake said as he walked into the kitchen. He pecked Dirk's cheek as he walked past to switch on the kettle. "You haven't been up all night contemplating how to kick-start the robot takeover again, have you?"

"What do you mean 'again'?" Dirk frowned. 

"Well I'm just assuming it wouldn't be the first time you've imagined yourself as the leader of a mechanical uprising." 

"Fair, but no."

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? I'm just checking that's not what you were doing."

"I haven't been up all night commanding the robotroops into action," he said. "Just woke up early. Bad night's sleep, I guess. Did I forget to lock the truck last night?"

"I doubt it," Jake said as he sat down at the table to let the kettle finish boiling. "Look, this is your last chance. If I open the paper I'm not going to read about a robot army being mobilised in the early hours, am I?"

"Oh my God," Dirk muttered.

"What?"

"Huh? Oh, nah, no robot army. Have you been in a fistfight with the prototype yet? No, because you've obviously forgotten that I promised to let you be the first man in history to fistfight a robot."

"I haven't forgotten, I was just trying to figure out if you'd forgotten and had gone ahead and mobilised without combat trials," Jake said. 

"That's how you build a losing army," Dirk said. "Gotta go, think I figured it out." 

"Figured what out?" Jake asked. "Hey, figured what out, Dirk?"

"Relax, you'll get that robot fistfight one day," he said, squeezing Jake's shoulder as he stood up to go and find his phone.

+++

"Why does he always go right into thinking I'm doing something gay?"

"Probably because you're the only one in the family who refuses to elaborate on your preferences, therefore leading him to try and provoke the information out of you."

"Huh?" 

Dave just stared at his sister from his place opposite her at the table. He knew all the words she'd used, but his brain was nowhere near being in the right place to translate from Rose to English. The jetlag was finally catching up with him and all the coffee he'd drunk throughout the day to counteract it had left him a jittering, hyperactive mess. 

"Just eat your chicken, love," Porrim said, nudging his plate closer to him. "It'll soak up the coffee and hopefully help to put some meat on your bones." 

"He's always looked like that," Rose said dismissively. "Crack baby." 

"And his exclusive frappuccino-based diet doesn't help things," Kanaya added. 

"Hey, we all know you'd both kill for these legs," he interrupted. "We've been over this like, a thousand times."

"And you'll go arse over one day when they snap on you," Porrim said. "Eat up." 

"Yes, Mom," he muttered. 

"Don't encourage her," Kanaya quipped. 

"I said to eat it, not take another thirty five photos of it," Porrim snapped.

Dave dropped his phone onto the table and held up his hands in surrender before finally picking up his cutlery. 

It wasn't his fault that the cheeky Nando's meme was at an all time high and any photos of his plate were bound to get him more likes than usual, but somehow the look on Porrim's face was enough to stop him from trying to explain that to her.

Rose, on the other hand, had been smiling all afternoon. 

Despite everyone dressing up in their nicest clothes for the occasion, Rose and Kanaya had been married at the Register Office. They'd all made their way into central London by train, taken an Uber to the office, then a traditional taxi to the Nando's just off Oxford Street for an early dinner after the event. 

While Kanaya's dress was the product of countless hours of labour, Rose's suit had been acquired through more dubious means. No one had told him the exact details, but Porrim had procured it through a series of shady deals and exchanges; genuine Armani for a fair price. Their witnesses, Porrim and himself, were dressed almost as sharply. 

It was the perfect combination of class and trash, and he knew his sister was loving every second of it all. 

Both his sisters, if he wanted to get technical. 

"Slow down!" Rose exclaimed with a loud laugh, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he sprinted across the road. 

"Gotta go fast, Rosie," Dave said. He paused on the corner and hitched her up on his back, readjusting his hold around her knees to make sure she didn't fall. "Did you see how there was that Starbucks next door to Nandos?"

"I did," she said.

"Yeah, well Porrim said if I go in there and get another coffee, she's not gonna be happy."

"And you listened to her?"

"Man, she is terrifying as fuck. All the mom-like disappointment with the added bonus of a fuckton of suspicious contacts and hobbies, of course I listened to her," he explained. "But yesterday when she took me shopping I saw another store like two blocks this way, so we're going there instead."

"Hmm, you're playing to the technicality in the rule, what a surprise."

"Rosie, c'mon, we need celebration drinks! You just got married!" Dave said excitedly. "Married!"

"I did," she said. "And you've already kidnapped me away from my new wife."

"Haha, gay, you've got a wife," he sniggered, hurrying across the street. 

"I'll have you know we spent fifteen pounds to get matching rings from the toy machine at the grocery store," Rose said as she waved her left hand in front of his face. 

"So when I get to travel through time like a badass movie hero, can I go back and tell thirteen year old you about all this? Because man, she is going to piss herself."

"I think I'd like for it to be a surprise. How about you go back and tell your thirteen year old self that one day you'll be drawing softcore furry porn for people other than Jade?"

"Dude, no way," Dave said. "Shit, I think this is it," he added, stopping for long enough to check out the buildings around them. "Yeah, it's down here."

He took a few steps around the corner then let Rose slide down off his back. Once she was safely on the ground and had straightened out her tie, he slipped an arm around her waist as they started walking again. 

"I just got _married_ ," Rose said, biting her lip. "Married! To Kanaya!"

"Are you happy?" 

"Yeah, I really am," she replied, as she lifted her own left hand to examine the plastic ring once more. "Obviously, we'll get real ones in good time." 

"Hey, what do I care? Pops isn't allowed to wear his. Like, he's got cheap ones that Bro makes him wear instead, which seems shitty until you realise he's gone through like four already," Dave said, pushing the Starbucks door open with his right hand. "Vanilla Creme?" 

"Please." 

"Hey, so, when I get my time travel powers," he started, casually leaning back with his elbows resting on the condiment counter. "Do you want me to visit thirteen year old Rosie and let her know that eventually she figures out what makes her happy?"

"No," she said as she turned to stand beside him with her head resting against his upper arm. 

"Why not?"

"Because thirteen year old Rose has enough ideas about the future. She doesn't need you giving her any more of them."

"I'm glad you're happy," he said after a brief silence. "And make sure you keep this part all hush-hush, but I'm so super proud of you."

"I'm proud of me, too."


	7. Interfishin' 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's 8ack.

**May, 2016**

"Well?"

"Huh?"

"And of course you weren't listening to me."

"Yeah, because you were talking for like eight years," Vriska scowled, as Aranea pursed her lips. 

"Oh my God, I literally just asked if you wanted me to come in with you or just drop you out front," Aranea exclaimed. 

"Just drop me off." 

"Are you sure?"

"Very." 

After six months in Florida, Vriska was ready to go home. She'd been ready to go back to Seattle since the moment she woke up in Miami, even with an arm full of metal, because Florida wasn't a place where she wanted to be anymore. 

The six months had dragged on, painfully slow, in more ways than one. Her bones were healing but her pride had taken a severe beating in the accident; she needed help with almost everything as she adjusted to life without her left arm. Of course, in time, it had healed enough that she could get by, but she would never regain complete use of the limb. 

Sometimes it went numb for no reason. 

She couldn't remember how many screws and plates were under her skin, but she could feel them. If she pressed hard enough she could trace the plate edges with her fingers, working her way along the steel until she found bone again. 

It was so gross.

She loved it. 

"You're going back to nothing," Aranea said as she steered the car down the airport turn-off. 

"Some dumb bitch I work with is letting me stay with her until the end of summer," Vriska said. "Her roommate went back to Idaho last week."

"They're definitely giving you your job back?"

"Yeah, but now I have an excuse not to unpack the deliveries." 

"You need a new car," Aranea pointed out. "Let me loan you the money."

"Ugh, no way, I'm not taking your bribe money just so you can feel better about yourself."

Aranea didn't reply, not until she pulled the car over into the drop-off zone. 

"Call us if you need anything," she said. 

"I need my life back, that's what I need," Vriska said as she dragged her backpack up from between her feet. "You can judge me all you want for fucking off, again, clear across the country, but that's where I want to be. We all know I'm not a good person, but I'm trying to be, sometimes, and being a good person is all about doing what's right. And the thing that's right for me is to be there, not here, so that's where I have to be."

Aranea frowned; Vriska knew she'd struck some kind of nerve. 

"At least take the hundred to buy some food."

"No, thanks," Vriska said. She climbed out of the car and collected her suitcase from the backseat before she leant down to look back at her sister through the open window. "See ya, Serket." 

"At least call me when you land."

"Text."

"Deal."

+++

It was twenty degrees colder in Seattle than in Miami and Vriska had no idea where any of her coats were. She knew they were in a box, and that the box was stacked somewhere in John's dad's garden shed, but nothing beyond that. He'd promised her that sorting out her stuff was priority number one, as long as it could wait until the morning because he wasn't going to start digging through the shed at midnight. 

John's room was the same as she remembered it being, with the exception of Jade's mattress set down in the far corner. His cousin was asleep under a mound of blankets. Vriska had been suspicious that Jade was just faking it, but John just laughed at her accusations. Bec slept when Jade did, and he was trained to know when she was just faking sleep. 

Vriska wasn't sure who it was that moved first, but that didn't matter. She was out of Florida, back in Washington, lying next to John with the fingers of his left hand entwined with hers. 

It had been John's idea to let her sleep on the wall side of his bed, so he didn't accidentally bump her bad arm in his sleep. 

"You didn't call much," John said quietly. 

"You could have called me."

"Okay, but you could have just called me."

"You have a phone, John."

"This is stupid." 

"Yeah," she agreed. "I fucked up."

"Not really. It's not like I never looked at your Instagram while you were gone," he said, turning to look at her. 

"Wow, that's kind of lame, but it's not exactly what I meant," Vriska said. "I mean I fucked up because I was on the phone, and I was angry, and it almost killed me."

"It didn't though."

"Yeah, but staying in Florida almost did." 

"That's not true." 

"Yes it is."

"You kind of exaggerate everything. Florida didn't almost kill you, Vriska," John said. 

"Okay, okay," she said, trying her best not to sound annoyed. 

After all, John had arranged for her to stay over when her coworker had been called in for a shift at the last minute. 

He'd even said straight up she could share his bed for the night. 

"I was scared to drive at night for months," he said, just above a whisper. "You almost _died_."

" _Almost_ , but didn't. I'm too lucky."

"Yeah," he said. 

"You think we can start over?" Vriska asked suddenly. 

"What do you mean?" John questioned. 

"I mean, start over. With all this, whatever this is, you know? I guess I did some thinking while I was gone. There's not much else to do in Miami."

"I always thought Miami was the biggest city in the country for summery things to do in winter."

"Whatever," she said. "I think I want to try fucking things up less this time."

"So we start over from when you first came to Washington?" John asked, frowning. "And just forget about all the stuff we did and said between then and now?"

"All the bad stuff, yeah. And whatever else you want. Like how they keep remaking _Spiderman_ movies but they keep making the same _Spiderman_ movies, just with different guys playing Spiderman," Vriska said. "And like, less pressure, you know?"

"Okay," John said after a brief hesitation. "But by less pressure you mean, like, you know, that?"

"Yeah, mostly," she said quietly. "Mostly that."

"Okay," he said again. "Okay."

When John shuffled a little closer and kissed her gently on the forehead, she couldn't help but let out a soft snort of laughter. 

"What was that?"

"Ugh, I wanted to kiss your nose but it's mostly dark, and I don't have my glasses on, so I kind of missed," John said as he buried his face in the gap between their pillows. 

"That's even dorkier!"

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Can we just start over again from now then?" 

"Hi John," Vriska said in a whisper. 

"Hi, Vriska."


	8. [A6.2A5]: go with your gut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some solid advice and a new family member.

**July, 2016**

"Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"This is stupid."

Dave knew what John thought was stupid. They'd had their first argument over the issue when Dirk woke them up at six in the morning. They'd fought all the way through breakfast, then while they rotated in and out of the bathroom to get ready, and had spent the entire drive across town squabbling over the details. 

When Dirk had decided months earlier that he was bored and wanted to do something excessive for no reason at all, he'd reserved a table on the floor at Comic Con with no real intention of doing much with it; he mostly wanted the convention passes that came with the transaction. He'd invited Dave along to sell prints and take commissions, and Dave had invited John.

John would get a kick out of a free ticket, Dave had argued when Dirk told him to justify why he should be pitching in for the flight costs. The real reason, which had eventually come out, was that if John was in San Diego for two weeks, then that was two weeks he wasn't spending with Vriska. 

"Are you _sure_?" John asked as the truck came to a stop in the parking lot. 

"John, dude, I can't. There's no way I can do it for you because it'd be like committing high fucking treason," Dave said. "Bro, c'mon, back me up here."

"Sorry, kid," Dirk said, taking his keys from the ignition. "Dave knows the rules. I'm a Batman guy, and there's no way any kid of mine would choose Metropolis over Gotham." 

"But Dirk, you're not seeing the whole picture! Just listen, because Dave doesn't have to change anything except what he tells people!" John exclaimed. "He's still cosplaying as whatever dumb insufferable hipster guy he's dressed up as, but he just has to say he's from Metropolis!"

"Dude, I'm _background Gotham City Art student number thirteen_ ," Dave said. "Get it right."

"Exactly! You're just dressed up as yourself except you put a sticker over the bit of your license that says New York and wrote Gotham," John argued. "Just cover Gotham and write Metropolis so we match!" 

"I'm not ready to take this relationship to the couple's cosplay level yet, John," Dave said. He slammed the door to the truck when he stepped out into the lot after John, and walked around the back to collect his things from the bed. 

"Be _background Metropolis Art student number thirteen_ , Dave!"

"John, look," Dirk interrupted. "I don't play the adult card much, but I'm the adult and I say Dave just ain't allowed to cosplay as anyone from Metropolis. It's not gonna happen, kiddo."

"You guys suck," John said with a large frown. "Can I have my pass now?"

"First help us haul all this shit inside, then you get your pass," Dirk said, pushing a plastic crate in John's direction. "So where'd you get the outfit from anyway, Kent?"

"This is my recital suit," John said. "But I got the Superman t-shirt from Hot Topic and the glasses are mine because I already need them to see."

"Nice. Man, I haven't been to a Hot Topic since Rosie was what, seventeen?"

"Probably," Dave shrugged. "Can you carry this one?"

"Your arms won't actually rip out of their sockets when you pick up a heavy object, you know that, right?" Dirk said, rolling his eyes as Dave tried to shove the print-filled crate towards him. 

"Yeah, but it'll damage my pride and make me look weak."

"You are weak," John pointed out. "Remember at Christmas, when you and Jade started fighting and she won in exactly thirteen seconds?"

"Thanks, John," Dave said. 

"Look, just grab all the light shit and I'll come back for the rest. Jesus Christ," Dirk muttered. "Where the fuck is Cal?"

"Backseat," Dave replied. "You made me buckle him in, remember?"

He and John had been in California for a week already, and he'd used that time to help Dirk figure out what to do with the space he'd already paid to use. For a while they'd tossed around the idea of leaving it empty and unmanned all weekend, and changing out the signage every few hours, but Dirk seemed intent on letting Dave actually use the booth for something worthwhile. 

_Pimp your shit out to the West Coast_ , he'd said over dinner one night. 

Dave and John had spent the next morning pouring over years of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comics, official Di-Stri artwork, and endless half-completed images and doodles. With input from Jake, his own Instagram and Twitter followers, and the okay from Dirk, they picked six pieces to use as prints. Three different SBAHJ strips were chosen based on how much they and their friends still quoted the jokes in them to each other. The image he'd created for the rear cover of _Prince of Heart_ , Dirk's final album, was still one of his favourites so that had been an easy decision. The other two kept popping up as suggestions on his Twitter feed so he'd gone with those; the first was a short comic about realising your dreams could only ever be dreams, and the second was one he'd drawn as part of the Birthday Saga, the Golden Planet from John's recurring nightmares. 

He'd hesitated over the one about dreams, because it still felt so personal. It had been redone three times over the years as his art had improved, but the concept went right back to the moment he'd realised that field archaeology was never something he'd be able to do. 

He could understand why it resonated, though. 

Dirk's plan was to just sit at the booth and see how long it took for anyone to recognise him. 

Dave had stocked up on red sharpies, just in case anyone actually bought anything, so he could sign the reverse of his prints. He wasn't expecting much when he'd first announced his location on all his social media streams. He had a lot of followers online, but that didn't mean anything in practice. 

When it turned out he was wrong and he'd sold half his stock before noon, Dirk made a quick run to the nearest FedEx Kinko's to run off more. 

It was weird and almost unsettling to know that people were turning up, from his Instagram, just to see him. After a lifetime of shadowing his father, Dave signed his art prints and took photos with people while Dirk just sat back with the smug family grin on his face, occasionally nodding to a fan who presumably thought he was just a cosplayer selling bootleg CDs. 

Every hour or so, like a breath of fresh air, John would breeze back into the booth to sit down or store any merchandise he'd bought out on the convention floor. It was comforting to see him, every time, and Dave made sure to tell him that; John would just snort and call him a loser.

When Dirk returned at the same time as John, around four thirty, Dave leant over the front of the table and snatched the plastic bag from his hand.

"Is this food? Tell me it's food, I'm starving like what the fuck, I've just been sitting around on my ass all day, why am I so hungry?"

"You're probably growing, again," Dirk said, rolling his eyes and weakly attempting to grab the bag back. "It's not food."

"Nope, not food," Dave said, sliding the bag to the end of the table. "You don't even like Tomb Raider that much."

"Yeah, but Jake does," Dirk said as he put the figurine down in one of the crates they were taking home overnight. "A lot." 

"Please stop talking."

"Relax, I'd have to do a lot better than a sexy Lara Croft figurine to get any kind of lucky with you two staying over."

"See, that's why I said stop, because it always gets weird," Dave said. He slouched down in his chair; the event was starting to slow down for the afternoon. "Eurgh, nasty."

Dirk grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"You kids want Jack in the Box for dinner?"

"Do they sell brain bleach? Because I need some of that right now, like, six gallons. There's a Walmart near here, right? Let's go there first, then Jack."

"Or you could get one of those giant-ass bacon cheeseburgers and hope for a coronary overnight."

"Okay, that'll do, jeez," Dave said, distastefully. "Fuck, man, I'm gonna need two."

+++

When they first moved back into the Maryam family home, Rose and Kanaya had given themselves until the end of July to find an apartment of their own. With their deadline rapidly approaching, they had agreed to extend the cut off for their search to the end of August.

Their morning schedule had changed in the previous month. With their marriage official, Rose was finally able to work in the U.K. and had found herself a job at a new and used bookshop in Islington. She was working short days, six days a week, and had been surprised by how much she enjoyed the new routine. Her shifts never started until ten, enabling her to spend the mornings scouring the internet for suitable apartments. 

"Now I understand why Dave was so concerned by the prospect of paying rent," Rose sighed as she clicked over to the next page of search results. 

"We could search another borough but I do want to be closer to your work," Kanaya said.

"Oh no, you're not changing my mind that easily," Rose said, lifting one leg up to rest on the edge of her chair. She put her chin down on her knee as she chewed her toast thoughtfully. "I didn't move to London to not live in the same suburb as Grimmauld Place."

"I knew you had an ulterior motive," Kanaya replied. "Another tea?"

"Please." 

Rose smiled as Kanaya stood up to put the kettle on again. She had time. She had a job she found strangely satisfying, even if that was only because of the nature of the store; had it been a chain bookshop, she doubted it would have been as intriguing. The shop itself was a cluttered mess, with used books overflowing from the shelves and piled under the display tables as well as on them. The new books were arranged more neatly, but only because there were fewer in stock. The owner had been reluctant to hire an American at first, but had laughed too hard when she compared herself to the shop - a mess, obviously queer, and bordering irrelevant - to give her a pass. He'd agreed to let her start later in the mornings if she could manage the lunch hour on her own. 

Both Rose and Kanaya looked up when they heard the front door open. Rose leant back in her chair to glance down the hallway to see who it was. 

"Morning," Porrim said brightly as she dropped her bag on the floor. "You've got crumbs on your chin, love," she said to Rose, indicating on her own face where the toast had left its mark. "How are we both this morning? Let me do that, you sit down," she added, ushering Kanaya back to her seat. 

"As well rested as one can be on a Friday morning," Rose said. "And how was your night?"

"Filthy, yet profitable," Porrim said. "You missed a crumb."

"Thank you."

"What's the plan for today, then?" 

"I spent all day yesterday cutting skirt fabric for the staple line, so I suppose today I should start putting them together. Customers tend to get irate when you send them a do-it-yourself kit," Kanaya said, raising an eyebrow at Rose, who was struggling not to laugh, across the table. "I cut thirty and I think I can complete half today, including zips and lining."

"I'll be leaving for work soon enough," Rose said, picking up where Kanaya left off. "I was invited to an event this evening but I've declined the offer since there will be free drinks involved."

"And because we agreed that tonight is the night we would finally start watching _Stranger Things_."

"Also that," she corrected herself.

Porrim turned to hand out the cups of tea as they finished brewing and sat down at the kitchen table with the girls. With her makeup starting to crease, Rose could see how tired she really was after a full night's work. 

"Flat hunting again, are we?" Porrim asked, nodding at Rose's laptop. 

"Mm," Rose said. "But it's certainly challenging."

"I don't just live at home to help Mum with the mortgage, you know."

"And at the end of the day, you can still feel superior to your brother since New York has a much higher cost of living than even London," Kanaya supplied. "And you do enjoy feeling superior to your brother."

"I do," Rose agreed. "The hardest part seems to be finding a one bedroom as opposed to a studio, we'd need the space for a home workshop."

"What if," Porrim started, pausing to sip her tea. "What if I could get the pair of you into a two bedroom for the cost of a one?"

"I assume you're going to set the bargaining chip in this situation," Rose said. 

"No, no bargaining on your part. Just exactly what it says on the tin, a nice discount for knowing the right people. Mind you, I won't be able to get you anything too incredible but I think I can track down a two bed, even if one room is on the small side." 

"What's the catch?" Kanaya asked. "There's always a catch with you."

"In the scheme of things it wouldn't be a catch at all. It might be one of those murder-suicide places, or by a main road, I don't know. Nothing wrong with the place, just a bit of a dodgy landlord in all the best ways, you know?" Porrim said. 

Rose moved her leg back down off the chair, pondering the offer. They could use a discount on rent if they wanted to live somewhere with enough room for the two of them to have their own space. She glanced over at Kanaya, who was shaking her head; Rose cocked an eyebrow in response. 

"I want somewhere bright and airy. Somewhere in Islington, or in Stoke Newington. Around there, for obvious reasons, and I don't just mean for an easy commute to work. A closet would be nice. Oh, and a short walk to the nearest station," she said. "Find somewhere perfect and then we'll talk."

"I do like a challenge," Porrim said thoughtfully. "Give me a fortnight."

"A week."

"Ten days."

"Deal," Rose agreed. 

"And with that, I'm going to go for a _very_ long bath because I did some _very_ questionable things last night," Porrim said as she stood back up from the table, taking her mug with her. "Oh, do you need to top up your Oyster card?"

"No, but you're going to give me the _very_ questionable money anyway, aren't you?" Rose said.

"Of course I am."

Rose smiled politely and took the two fifty pound notes when Porrim waved them in front of her face.

"Thank you."

"Knock on the bathroom door when you're leaving for work so I know you've left on time," Porrim added and kissed the top of Rose's head on her way out of the kitchen. "No fooling around now I'm home."

"I hadn't even considered that," Rose said after they heard the upstairs bathroom door close. 

"No, Rose."

"Why not?"

"Because I have rather a good idea for tonight planned already, and if you're late getting to work then you'll be late home and I'm not prepared for that situation," Kanaya said matter-of-factly.

"Well," Rose said, feigning haughtiness as she stood up. "I'd better get to work before I'm late."

"Please, do," Kanaya replied. "Watch the time, I'd prefer it if you weren't late because you lost a fight to your liquid eyeliner!"

"That was one time!" Rose called back as she leant over the bannister to frown her disapproval at her wife. 

"One time too many!" Kanaya shouted back. 

"Oh, shut up!"

"I love you, too, Rose!"

+++

Of course, after so long together Jake had developed a sense for understanding the almost coded way Dirk spoke about everyday things. The more outrageous a suggestion, for example, the more serious Dirk was about the idea. When he'd first said he was prepared to set up a booth at Comic Con just because he'd never been, Jake knew that come July, Comic Con was where Dirk would be. 

What he hadn't been expecting was for Dirk to come home every afternoon, the two boys in tow, with some kind of over the top and ridiculous figurine to put on display. The first night had been the Lara Croft, then a decrepit mummy, a replica _Terminator_ gun, and finally a statuette of Neyteri. All four items had been put up in the cinema where they could be safe and fulfill Dirk's only request - that neither Lara or Neyteri were to go on display in the bedroom. 

He'd thought about protesting the conditions, but Dirk was already prepared with a list of things he wasn't allowed to keep in there either. 

With the event over and reasonably successful for both Dirk and Dave, Sunday night was movie and pizza night. _Batman vs. Superman_ was a controversial if timely choice. With the kids heading home later in the week he'd opened the cinema for general use, provided no one tried to touch any of his remotes with their greasy pizza fingers; everyone had agreed, then Dave and Dirk had disappeared to go and pick up dinner. 

"Can I ask you something?" John asked suddenly, dropping his end of the living room coffee table once it was roughly centered in front of the cinema couch.

"You certainly can, mate. Would you kindly go and collect the drinks from the kitchen first?" Jake asked. John nodded and doubled back out the room again, leaving him to finish setting up the cinema for everyone. 

He threw some cushions to the floor for the boys to sit on and arranged the others against the back of the couch for himself and Dirk to lean against. It took a bit of effort to move the table into place himself, if only because he couldn't quite tell if it was too far to one end of the couch or not.

He looked up from loading the disc into the blu-ray player when he heard John setting down the sodas and beers. 

"Uh," John started, fiddling with the edge of a coaster as he refused to make eye contact. "About before?"

"Right-o, let's hear that question!" Jake said enthusiastically. "You look serious but it's probably nothing I haven't heard before." 

"Okay, but I just don't know how to make it sound right?" John said, unsure of himself. 

"I spend a lot of time working with kids, remember? I've heard it all, I can assure you of that much!" Jake said, trying his best to sound casual; John suddenly seemed strangely tense. 

"Okay. I just mean, like, I don't even know if this is a question or just a statement? I think I'm saying something and not just asking a question, because I don't know if there's even an answer, not really. Like, I mean, you don't look gay. But you are, and so is Dirk, but he doesn't either, but you're married, right? And, ugh, see?" John said, his shoulders sinking as he slid down onto the cushion. "It's just a kind of offensive statement, not a real question." 

"I don't think it's offensive," Jake said as he sat down on the couch. "A little misguided, perhaps, but I'd be more offended if you thought I didn't look rugged enough to survive a journey fraught with misadventure."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed. Despite what all the films say - even the good ones - that's not something you can often tell just by looking at someone," Jake explained. "Besides, I'm not even gay so if I did somehow look it I'd need to reconsider my haircut or something, wouldn't I?"

"But you're married. To Dirk," John pointed out, furrowing his eyebrows behind his glasses. 

"Yes, and?"

"And he's a dude."

"He is very much a dude. He just happens to be the person I decided to stay with long-term, that's all. I wanted to be with him, regardless of what was in his trousers. Don't get me wrong, I do particularly like what he's got in his trousers, it's just that was never going to be a deal breaker."

"So you like girls and guys the same?"

"It's more of a seventy-thirty split, I suppose, but that's the general idea," Jake said. He put his elbows down on his knees and leant forwards to relax his spine while they spoke. "But you're not really asking about me, are you?"

"You seem normal," John said as he let his head fall back onto the couch cushion, then turned his head to look at Jake, his glasses skewing when he did. "Like, not because of that, but like, in general. Rose tried to explain all this stuff and I didn't get any of it. Karkat made it easier to understand but I guess I just don't know what to do with all that stuff I know now that I didn't know before. Like, it makes sense for people to like girls and boys because they can like, look at them and like them or whatever, but I don't think I like either and I don't know because it's a whole big nothing, and you can't know nothing."

"Well it sounds to me as if you actually have it a bit more figured out than you think you do," Jake said. 

"No, I don't! That's the problem!" 

"You said you don't really fancy either."

"Exactly!"

"So if you don't fancy either, you don't fancy either." 

"Yeah, but then why do I still like Vriska?" John asked, trying in vain to straighten out his glasses without lifting his head up. 

Jake sighed. He'd never thought he'd be in a position to give anyone The Talk. 

"There's a big difference between liking her and wanting to sleep with her," he started. "Those are completely different parts of your brain at work, you see." 

"That's what Rose says."

"And we all know how bright Rose is, so you were right to believe her."

"Yeah, but I still don't get how they're different," John said. He lifted his head up again and turned to sit cross-legged at the far end of the coffee table, folding his arms on the edge. "That's why everything is stupid."

"You're not wrong there," Jake laughed gently. "You're not the first person who's had trouble with this sort of thing, you can take my word for that. You just have to let things happen and decide what works for you in the long term. I never thought I'd settle down, it never felt right when I was with other people. I liked them at the time, of course, but never enough and it was always too much of the wrong thing."

"So why is Dirk different?"

"I'm not entirely sure, to tell you the truth. He's highly independent, and I think we have that in common. It's why I've never really felt overwhelmed by him. I'm sure that if we'd met as teenagers we never would have worked, he would have been far too intense for me back then. Somehow it just works, it did right from the beginning. What's your gut telling you?" Jake asked.

John looked thoughtful for a moment - confused, but thoughtful - then put his chin down on his still-crossed forearms. 

"I like her. And I like that she likes me, because I want to hold her hand and do stuff with her, and I think I even like kissing her most of the time. But I don't think I want to, you know, go further."

"Then all I can say is kiss her to your heart's content but keep your trousers on," Jake shrugged. "If that changes, it changes. If it doesn't, it doesn't. There's no right or wrong when it comes to all this romance nonsense."

"So that's it? Go with my gut?" John asked, bewildered. 

"Go with your gut," he nodded. "It's pretty good at making decisions when you let it. Sometimes it might take a wrong turn but it's also fairly competent at letting you know when to double back on your choices."

"Huh."

"I mean, my gut told me to put Lara Croft on the middle shelf there, but I might go back on that decision in the morning. That's certainly not in the same league of issues, but the point remains," Jake said. "Was any of that helpful at all? Up until the Lara Croft part, at least." 

"I think so," John replied. "It makes more sense when you say it than when Rose does."

"Let's be honest, mate, she's a smart girl but she's lacking a lot of tact."

"Shit, are we talking about Rosie?" 

Jake looked over at the door when Dave burst through carrying two large pizzas from the store. 

"We certainly were," he said. "Have you spoken to her recently?"

John frowned when Jake winked at him, but he knew the message had been relayed; he'd broken the first rule of communicating with Dave in order to change the subject of conversation. Giving Dave an open-ended question inevitably meant he would ramble on until someone else interrupted him. 

It took a very loud cough and the TV volume hitting almost eighty before Dave got the hint. 

His choice of film for the evening turned out to be so controversial that it was followed by both the 1978 _Superman_ and the 1989 _Batman_ films for comparison. Admittedly, he dozed off more than once in the second half of each movie but he was quick to argue that he'd seen them both more than once during their original theatrical runs.

When _Batman_ finished at nearly one o'clock in the morning, the boys fled the cinema to fight over the bathroom sink while they brushed their teeth; Dirk gave him a look of amusement then disappeared to do the same, leaving Jake to clean up the dinner mess on his own. They'd gone through all the pizza so he stacked the empty boxes into a pile, took them to the kitchen, then came back for the glasses and bottles. 

He turned around from stacking the last few dishes into the dishwasher to find John hovering beside the dining table.

"You alright, John?"

"Yeah. Thanks," John said, turning his phone over and over in his hand. "I think I might tell her when I get home. Maybe not everything but just, you know, that I like some of what we do, like second base. Or third, I don't know."

"Which one is which?"

"Uh, I think I have to Google it."

"Well, do that on your own time, mate," Jake said, patting John on the back as he walked back out into the hallway. "Let me know how it goes, won't you?"

"Yeah, I will. G'night."

"Night, John. Goodnight, Dave!" 

"See ya tomorrow, Pops," Dave replied, sticking his head down out of the attic hole. 

Jake waited until Dave disappeared again and John was off the ladder before he switched off the hall light.

He swung the bedroom door closed once he was inside, yawning loudly while he fought with his t-shirt to get it up over his glasses without knocking them from the bridge of his nose. 

"I'll admit the triple billing feature was unexpected and probably ran longer than it should have," he said. He threw his clothes to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dirk hadn't fallen asleep in the few minutes he'd been lying alone. 

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Dirk said. Jake felt him reach over and rest the back of his fingers lightly on his lower back, which he ignored as he checked his alarm setting for the morning. "A few hours of staring at a young Christopher Reeve never hurt anyone." 

"You're not wrong there. John's a bit of a funny fellow, isn't he?"

As Jake's glasses went down on his bedside table, Dirk's hand withdrew so he could lie down as well.

"That's rich coming from you," Dirk said. 

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're here voluntarily so you're obviously a worse case than I am," Jake said. He shuffled across the bed and elbowed Dirk gently, until he turned onto his side. Jake pressed up behind him and adjusted until they were comfortable, with his left arm under Dirk's pillow and his right wrapped around his middle. "Much worse, truth be told."

"In some circles, that's considered slander."

"Only if it's a lie."

"Which it is."

"Hardly."

"Your favourite movie is _Weekend at Bernie's_ , that's enough to have you laughed out of any court as unreliable."

"No," Jake said after a moment of silence as he pressed a half dozen kisses to Dirk's nape. "It just means I have an excellent taste in cinema. Perfectly admissible."

"If you keep that up, they'll throw us out anyway for some kind of sleeping with the enemy deal," Dirk murmured quietly. 

"No one's sleeping with anyone while we have two teenagers living with us."

"On one hand, sure. But on the other, I just sat through two hours of young Christopher Reeve and you're not helping anything right now," Dirk said.

Jake stopped after a final kiss to Dirk's spine, resting his forehead against the bone instead as he tried to plan out the rest of their conversation. 

"How do you feel about that dog?"

"Way to change the subject, English."

"That doesn't answer the question," Jake mumbled. 

He knew he was dozing off but couldn't do anything to prevent it; it was late, he was comfortable, and there was no way he was getting a serious answer out of Dirk, anyway. 

When he jerked awake, it was to the sounds of Dirk's phone ringing right on six o'clock. With half an hour until he had to get up for work, Jake just rolled back onto his other side and pulled the covers up over his head, trying to drown out the conversation Dirk was actually having. 

"Hey," Dirk said, reaching over to shake his shoulder.

Jake jumped. 

"Twenty three minutes until the alarm, Strider."

"More like two, you went back to sleep."

"Bloody fantastic. Are the boys up?"

"Are you kidding me? It's six thirty in the morning. They will be soon though, I gotta go wake Dave." 

"Why? What's happened?" Jake asked as he forced himself to finally sit up in bed. It was hard to figure out Dirk's expression without his glasses on, but with enough squinting Jake could tell he was grinning.

"My offer's been accepted."

+++

It had been a long time since he'd felt that familiar, unsettled sensation in the pit of his stomach. He flexed his fingers a few times, trying to focus on the movements rather than what his brother was saying, because the so-called conversation was already skirting a line that even Karkat had never expected it to cross. 

"All I'm saying, and I certainly understand if you don't agree because you have a very different perspective being squarely in another generation, but I just think it's fair to say he has raised some _very_ valid points so far and that I would be happy for him to win," Kankri said. 

Without registering what he was doing, Karkat flung his fork across the kitchen; it hit the wall, then clattered into the sink, as silence fell in the apartment kitchen. 

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that, right?"

Kankri glared at him, trying to figure out which of Karkat's actions to be most offended by, but before he could say anything else he was cut off. 

"Don't," Karkat threatened. 

He couldn't think straight. 

Karkat shoved his chair so roughly that it fell to the floor as he stormed out of the kitchen. When he made it to the living room, he didn't stop. Slamming the front door behind him was a mistake, because in the late-July heat he wasn't wearing any shoes; that didn't stop him from catching the elevator down to street level. 

He let out a vaguely frustrated yell as he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the building. Karkat couldn't remember the last time he'd been pushed to react in such an over-the-top way, even by his brother. Kankri had been home for weeks; he'd graduated at the end of the academic year and was back in New York until he decided where to go next. 

Even Kankri should have been smart enough to have a better political position. 

Karkat let out another shout of anger as he lashed out at the nearest thing. The pigeon swiftly avoided his kick and fluttered out of harm's way, but he was too riled up to let things go that easily. With no real options available to him out on the street, he punched before his brain could register just how bad an idea it was to crush his folded knuckles up against the brickwork of an apartment building. 

"Motherfucker!" Karkat screeched. 

The sharp pain radiating through his hand and up into his wrist was enough to finally snap him out of his tantrum. The sensation was just like he remembered; the rage all suddenly dissipated, and left him with nothing but a throbbing hand and an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. 

"Sorry," he said, looking down at the sidewalk. The pigeon cocked its head and cooed, then flew off. 

"Apologising to the birds?"

Karkat looked away from his bleeding knuckles when his dad spoke up. 

"I tried to kick it."

"Wait here. I'll get my wallet."

They didn't say much during the cab ride. There wasn't really anything to say, Karkat realised. It was just another fuck up in a long series of mistakes he'd made over the years. Admittedly, it had been a long time since he'd punched anything, but there was just something about his brother that made him regress into a bundle of unstable rage. 

He followed his dad through the back of the emergency ward and into one of the service elevators, then up a few floors to the nurse's station closest to his office. 

"So, you punched the building."

"Yeah," Karkat said. He was sitting in one of the nurse's swivel chairs, picking grit out of the swollen wounds on his knuckles while his father set down some medical supplies on the counter. 

"I understand why you're angry," he said, reaching for Karkat's hand to examine the injury. 

"Why aren't you?" Karkat asked. He flinched when his dad put a little too much pressure on the obviously fractured bones in his hand. "He's voting for the guy that effectively wants you and mom to end up being deported, and like, doesn't he realise they'll kick him out too? He wasn't born here like I was, and even I'm not gonna be safe if they pass that shit!"

"Kankri is easily swayed by what he thinks is right."

"Except he's always wrong!"

"Keep your voice down, you're on the ward. And brace yourself," his dad said. 

"For wh - fuck!" Karkat yelled as he felt the bones in his hand forcibly readjust. "Why!"

"Because you gave yourself a boxer's fracture when you punched a wall, that's why. I'm going to tape these two fingers together then strap your hand into a plastic splint."

"Yeah, thanks, because I need the reminder of just how much of a fucking idiot I am, right?"

"Just hold still, please," his dad said. 

It took a surprising amount of attention to just sit and grit his teeth as his father manipulated his swollen hand into a splint. As the adrenaline rush from earlier wore off, he was starting to feel more pain shooting through his fingers and wrist. The fractured bones he could deal with, it wasn't the first time, but nothing from the conversation over dinner made any sense. 

His heart started racing again as he remembered exactly what Kankri had said; his dad frowned and walked away as soon as the splint was secure. 

"Here," his dad said when he returned a few moments later, holding out a small plastic pill cup in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Before you ask, sixty milligrams of codeine and a two milligram Xanax."

"Gee, I wonder why I'm fucking tense," he scowled.

He swallowed the pills anyway. 

"I understand your concern for us and I appreciate it, but explosive reactions won't help to win over your brother."

"He's gone, Dad. He doesn't even realise he's a fucking target, again, and you using the word 'explosive' in front of white people isn't helping anything," Karkat said sarcastically. 

The nurse in the next chair over smiled sympathetically.

"Do you want to stay here for a while or go home?"

"Can I just go to Sollux's place?"

"All I ask is that we talk about this more when you get home tomorrow."

"Okay. Yeah, I can do that," he said, reaching for his phone with his good hand. "Are you gonna go home?"

"Someone has to explain this evening to your poor mother." 

"Tell her sorry, I guess," Karkat said. "Thanks." 

The painkillers were doing their job by the time he made it to Sollux's building. Aradia opened the door for him with a slice of pizza in her hand; her eyes immediately landed on the splint.

"Gimme the X-rays," she said, wiping pizza grease off her fingers with the bottom edge of Sollux's shirt. 

"There aren't any," he said. 

He knew they were both staring at him as he collapsed into a pile of hopefully clean laundry. 

"What did you do this time?" Sollux asked.

"I punched a wall," Karkat replied nonchalantly. 

"Okay. Want some pizza?"

+++

There was something about arriving back in New York City that always felt like coming home. He'd never had a reason to feel that way, not when he only lived in a dorm room and his parents were based on opposite coasts of the country, but the feeling was there nonetheless. 

With just weeks to go before his third year of college began, Dave was home. 

Dirk had flown back with him, just for a few days, to sign the paperwork and establish the apartment's mortgage in Dave's name. 

He hadn't asked for the help, but Dirk had offered it anyway. Within days of Dave confirming that he was losing his old room, his dad had started looking for apartments and organising inspections - he'd even flown out without letting Dave know to see some of the places for himself - before putting in an offer for a small two bedroom in Brooklyn. 

Of course, Dirk had tried to cover the entire cost up front, but Dave had talked him into leaving fifty thousand on the mortgage to pay off himself. 

The apartment wasn't anything too impressive, but it was clean, recently updated, and the building had a working elevator. It had an open kitchen and living space, two bedrooms with small closets, and even fixtures for a washing machine. The location was good, with subway stations nearby and the area was full of a younger crowd. 

The bathroom tiles were hideous. 

Dave loved everything about the place. 

Dirk had flown back to California after making sure that Dave had organised everything he'd need to get by. His mattress had been delivered the afternoon he'd moved in, and his washer-dryer was installed the day after that. But a week later, the apartment was starting to take shape. 

He'd split the living room in two and set up his TV on one side and a desk on the other for his computer. The space was divided by the couch - an Ikea special - in an attempt to create a specific work area, and Paul's tank was up against one of the living room windows so he could crack the blinds and give her some daylight when he was on campus. The rest of his things were still in boxes strewn across the floor from kitchen to bedroom as he tried to figure out where things belonged. 

Dave rummaged through the top of an open box marked 'clothes', mentally kicking himself for not being more specific when he'd packed up his dorm. He pulled out a clean tank top from the mess and threw it on, then doubled back to the kitchen to find his wallet and phone; he was running dangerously low on toilet paper and if he didn't go to the store before he quit for the night, he'd forget to do it in the morning. 

He swung the apartment door closed behind him, made sure to lock it, and walked down the hall to the elevator. 

It wasn't quite dark outside, but it was still at least seventy five degrees. Dave reached into the pocket of his shorts to change the song he was listening to, but during the brief silence between tracks, he heard something familiar. 

He frowned, and pulled his headphones out. 

There it was again. 

Dave turned around and stepped into the alley behind his building to follow the sound. The sun was low enough that it was hard to see through the shadows, so he lifted his glasses up onto his head and crouched down beside the dumpster. 

"Hey, buddy, you need some help?" Dave asked quietly. 

He got a very soft meow in response. 

The kitten seemed distressed, but not by his sudden appearance. Its head was stuck in a Chef Boyardee can so Dave did the only thing he could think to do - he picked the kitten up in one hand and worked the can off with the other, moving quickly so he could help out before the creature realised what was happening. 

"Everyone knows Spaghetti-O's are better, man," he said, using his shirt to wipe the residue off the kitten's face. "Where's your mom, anyway?"

The kitten meowed loudly when Dave put it back on the ground and just stared up at him. It wasn't very old, he could tell that just by looking at the size of it; Mutie, as small as he'd been when they got him, was at least twice the size of the tiny black kitten walking in circles around his feet. 

"I gotta get to the store, bruh," he said. "Remember, Spaghetti-O's next time," he added.

When he took a step back, the kitten followed. 

Dave tried again, taking three steps back. With each movement he made, the kitten leapt forward to close the distance between them. 

"Man, don't do this shit to me. You hear that? That's my heart fucking shattering because your mom's dead, isn't she? She's fucking dead, that's why you're eating Chef Boyardee. Dude, literal chest problems here, I'm telling you," Dave said. "Aw, shit, nah I'm not the guy for this, I can't deal," he went on. 

When he leant over to pick the kitten up again, it let him hold it up against his chest. 

He could feel its tiny heart beating way too fast against his own. 

"See, look what you've done, you're mine now," he said. "Now I have to explain to my mom that I got a cat and I have to explain this shit to Paul because she's not my only baby anymore."

The kitten meowed quietly in response and started kneading his shirt, its tiny claws pricking through the thin fabric and into his skin as it tried to comfort itself. 

"Oh dude, no way. No way you think I'm your mom already, we just met. Be cool, man," Dave muttered.

He spent the rest of the walk to the store mumbling reassurances to the kitten as it settled in against his neck to keep warm. It was challenging to pick up all the unexpected groceries one-handed, between kitten milk and food, litter and a small container to use as a temporary tray, and an assortment of other cat supplies. He managed to sort everything into recyclable bags to sling over each shoulder, distributing the weight of the pellets and kibble as best he could for the trip home. 

"You know," Dave said as he set the kitten down on the kitchen counter. "You're lucky as shit I'm technically my own landlord now." 

It took a few tries to find a combination of wet foods that seemed as appealing as leftover Chef Boyardee, but eventually the kitten started eating after Dave soaked the kibble in formula until it formed a paste. He watched on proudly as the kitten nosed at the edges of the bowl, seeking out more food, but Dave knew he'd given it enough for one meal. 

"Okay," he said, lifting it from the counter and back down to the floor once dinner was over. "So this is the kitchen, that's the living room, and over here is where we shit."

As Dave walked towards the bathroom in small steps, the kitten followed right on his heels, meowing loudly to keep his attention.

"Okay dude, that's fucking adorable," he said with a laugh. "Okay, mine, and yours," he explained, pointing to the litter tray set between the toilet and the bathtub. He helped the kitten up into the litter and let it poke around for a few minutes while he filled the sink with warm water. 

Jaspers had hated bathtime. Mutie was fine until he was in the water. 

The alley kitten just froze when Dave dropped it into the sink; he felt guilty when it looked up at him, meowing sadly. 

"I know, bro, total betrayal, right?" 

He talked the whole way through washing the kitten with baby shampoo, scratching behind its ears as he scrubbed the dirt out of its fur. A second scrub helped to remove the more stubborn muck; it had to have been alone for days or its mother would have never let it get so dirty. 

Overwhelmed with pity for the tiny creature, Dave wrapped it tightly in a towel to help it dry off and provide a sense of safety and comfort for the kitten. 

He made it a nest on his mattress out of pillows, blankets, and a bottle of water for it to suckle throughout the night. When he put the kitten down in the pile, still wrapped up like a burrito, he lay down in bed next to it with his head resting on the edge of his pillow to look into the nest. 

When the kitten yawned and meowed for his attention again he reached over and loosened the towel a little, then offered it one of his knuckles to lick; Mutie had always found that comforting when he was a kitten. Dave stretched out his finger when the kitten began to doze off, scratching it lightly between the ears. 

At some point, he felt a light weight on the pillow next to his head, but he had no idea if that was before or after he'd fallen asleep. He woke up once to use the bathroom and when he climbed back into bed, he let the kitten curl up right on the mattress against his chest, protected by his arms. 

Suddenly, Dave was jolted awake by a door slamming followed by heavy footsteps making their way through the apartment. 

"Get up, shitlord, it's after ten. Answer your fucking phone."

"Shhhh," Dave said, waving a hand towards his bedroom door. 

Of course it was Karkat.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Karkat asked suddenly, pointing at the empty half of Dave's bed. 

"Huh? Oh, that? Man, this is the fucking Mayor of Can Town, show some respect, dude."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 as always!
> 
> come hang out! i love questions, feedback, and talking about this AU in crazy detail. 
> 
> twoperfectlittlefreaks.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out! http://twoperfectlittlefreaks.tumblr.com/


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